


Korrasami Week 2016

by Brackish



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, College AU, Comfort, Competitive girlfriends, F/F, Fluff, Gamer Girlfriends, Guns, Just a little angst, Kisses, Mentions of pornography, Moving In Together, NSFW, Neighbors, SPACE GIRLFRIENDS, Sci-Fi, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Wrong mail, YEESSSSSS, angst in chapter 6, can't keep away from each other, domestic life, extreme violence in chapter 5, finished work, little bit, shower kisses, soulmate, unproductively attracted to each other, vaguely nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brackish/pseuds/Brackish
Summary: A series of stories, celebrating the Korrasami Week 2016 prompts! Tags and summary will be updated as new chapters are posted. Day one; Domestic lifeDay two; Gamer GirlfriendsDay three; College AUDay four; Moving In Together [Kinda NSFW]Day five; Space Girlfriends [Extreme Blood and Violence, No Major Character Death]Day six; Rainy Sundays [Angst]Day seven; Soulmate AU





	1. Day One; Domestic Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami tears through her letters, only to accidentally tear through one not intended for her, and discovers her neighbor's... questionable choice in magazines.

Asami groans as she eyes the stack of letters in her mailbox. She flips through the first few - unsurprisingly, they’re not Christmas cards that have come a few months in advance. 

“Why do I have separate providers for gas  _ and  _ water… I should have listened to dad…”

Bill, after bill, after bill, after bill. Cursing with each letter, Asami prayed that each time she flipped to the next that it would be an unexpected, colourful junk-pamphlet, here to break the monotony of bills that would inevitably bleed her monthly budget dry. Fortunately, she had the rest of the apartment foyer to herself, otherwise her unsightly cursing and grumbling would have impacted her illusion of being an otherwise perfect tenant. 

_ Well, I guess it’s budgeting night.  _

Asami scooped up her stack of mail and made her way to the elevator. Inconvenient as it was that the bills basically amounted to legalized daylight robbery, she was at least slightly relieved at the prospect that all her mail came at once each month. It saved having to dread the next letter that would financially cripple her; at least this way, she could get it all out of the way, at least till the next month. 

She tore into the first letter as the elevator ascended to her floor. 

“...$145.67. Okay. That’s not too bad.” 

Level one. She tore into the next. 

“...$56.78. Huh. Well that’s pretty good, actually. So that’s a total of... Damnit, no phones, I can do this…” 

Level two. And the next, tearing into it almost absent-mindedly. 

“... a total of $202.45, plus this one which is… $16.99 - Why do I even  _ pay _ for this, I hardly use it…”

Level three. One more floor to go, and time for one more bill. Asami glances up as the elevator reaches her floor,  _ dinging _ softly to announce her arrival. The silver doors slide open seamlessly as she steps out onto her floor, tearing into the next letter. 

It’s heavier than the others, but Asami doesn’t notice, until too late. 

“...$219.44. Don’t forget. $219.44, plus this one, which is… uh. Oh. What?”

Asami looks into the letter. It’s a larger envelope, the kind that normally holds magazines. In fact, what Asami’s holding onto  _ is _ a magazine, rather than a bill letter. She doesn’t have any subscriptions to any magazines - not with the way  _ she _ budgets. 

And she most certainly, definitely, absolutely, does not subscribe to  _ these _ sorts of magazines. 

“... Oh my.” 

On the cover, a beautiful, half-naked woman eyes her lustfully, caught in a pose that Asami can only describe as  _ compromised _ , as another buries herself dutifully between her legs _. _ As her eyes wander the cover, Asami feels her palms sweating, and a heat rises in her cheeks that she’s sure could combust the stack of letters she’s clutching ridiculously tightly. On the cover, vulgar and lewd words jump at her, none of which, she convinces herself, she has the decency to ponder about, despite her growing curiosity. 

It takes a moment, but her mind reboots eventually. She clears her throat, despite her floor being empty as well. She hurriedly shuffles over to her door, stuffing the magazine back into its hastily torn open envelope. 

_ This is not mine.  _

In the privacy of the alcove of her front door, Asami flips the letter over in search of an address. 4B; the mailman had foolishly delivered it to her own 4D instead. 

Asami scans the name. “Ko-rah. Korra? Koo-rah.” Asami feels the name trip over her tongue a few times, wondering what sort of person, what sort of  _ debauched, unsavory, slimy  _ individual would peruse such… such… filth? 

Asami glances over her shoulder to the door that sits opposite her own. Her neighbour, the one that she has no idea about. She’s never seen her, she’s never heard her, and quite frankly, if it weren’t at the insistence from her other neighbours that the Korra at room 4B did indeed exist, she would have assumed she had been neighbours with a ghost this whole time. 

Asami wanted nothing to do with such a  _ pervert _ ; however, she was currently in possession of someone else’s mail. Not only that, she had  _ opened _ said mail, which she was certain was some sort of crime. 

A second string of guilt crawled up her spine, underneath her thick, fluffy sweater, and burrowed deep into her mind, a wave of paranoia and classic overthinking washing over her. Her neighbour would find out eventually that their subscription would not have come in on time, and then inquiries would begin. A letter would be sent to the magazine, and then the postal service would follow up. They would register that a successful posting had indeed been made, and then the investigations would come to this building. The clerk would confirm a delivery, and then the cameras would be perused. It would be seen, clear as day, that the letter was delivered to  _ her _ mailbox, the contents of which would be taken by  _ her  _ hands, the letter in question would be seen in the elevator as being torn open  _ herself, _ and the magazine pulled would be witnessed by the camera right behind - 

Asami glanced to the corner of the hallway, and as if it knew, the camera glanced back. 

Swallowing deeply, Asami resolved that there was only one course of action that could rectify this. She would have to deliver it herself, apologize profusely, and hope her neighbour would not press any charges of mail tampering. 

Asami took a deep breath, and marched with all the confidence she could muster across the narrow hallway. Three determined, powerful steps letter, she stood outside 4B. 

It took another half-minute of Asami psyching herself up, before she raised her fist to knock heavily on the door. 

She fidgeted in her place, tugging at the waist of her sweater, hoping that the blush in her cheeks had long since faded, but the memory of the magazine cover was still fresh in her mind. Fortunately, her neighbour had seemingly not heard her, and so she knocked again.

And again.

And again.

And again. 

It was only when Asami raised her fist to knock for the  _ fifth _ time, than the door swung open unexpectedly, the shock of which sent Asami jumping, letters and bills tumbling from her arms. 

“- Oh! Oh my, sorry, I’m -”

“Oh jeez, hey, let me help you with that -” 

“No no, it’s okay, I was just -”

“It’s okay, you - wow, this is a lot of letters.” 

Asami scrambled around on the floor, snatching up as many letters she she could, only pausing when she noticed the person assisting her. Lithe, toned legs stretched out from blue soffe shorts. A loose fitting white tee, broad shoulders, scratches and scars of battle or experience decorating her strong arms. A strong jaw and firm lips, and yet the softest, brightest eyes of impossible blue shone out beneath a head of mussed, cropped hair. 

It seemed like her neighbour had just woken up, and to be honest, Asami felt she had just awoken too. 

“H-hi.” Asami squeaked. 

Her neighbour blinked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with the flat of her palm. “Wussup?” 

Asami swallowed heavily. “I, uh, I’m not sure if we’ve met before, but I live across the hall,” She said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “Asami.”

“Korra-a-a.” Yawned her neighbour. She stretched, and Asami couldn’t help but snatch a glance at the skin beneath her neighbour’s skirt, revealing a taut stomach. 

Asami swallowed the lump in her throat. “A-anyway, I think I may have… accidentally opened one of your letters - by accident, of course.” 

Asami held forward the half-torn envelope. Her neighbour eyed it curiously, taking it slowly with suspicious gaze. She flipped open the envelope, but as soon as the cover began to show,she stuffed it back in, her body jumping as if hit by a bolt of lightning, a dark blush setting into her cheeks. 

“Oh jeez - I’m so sorry that you - hey, this isn’t mine it’s - a  _ prank _ , my friends, they - not -”

Asami’s eyes widened. “Hey, it’s okay - everyone has their needs, r-right?” 

“Sure. Uh huh. Needs.” Korra coughed. “Anyway - uh, thanks for this,  _ thing _ I guess.” 

Asami laughed, the mundanity of the situation finally settling between them. “No problem.” 

There was a pause, where neither party seemed to know how to proceed. Korra stood in her doorway, holding the magazine, still sheathed in the envelope, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously as she stared into a distant corner of the hallway. Asami stood, her stack of letters pressed against her chest, eyes wandering around the doorframe, softly chewing her bottom lip as her mind wandered curious and impulsive thoughts. 

Korra cleared her throat. “Anyway, I better- if there’s nothing else; you’re probably busy, so I’ll let you go -”

“Oh,” Asami hummed. “Yes, I suppose - anyway, nice to meet you Korra.”

“Yeah,” Korra managed a slight, crooked smirk. “You too, Sami.” 

“It’s  _ Asami _ .”

“Oh.” Korra chuckled nervously. “Right, sorry. Asami.” 

Asami smiled, and turned back to her door, but before she could stop herself, she turned back to Korra’s closing apartment. 

“Korra,” Asami said firmly. “Would you like - Would you like to go get some coffee?” She could barely believe the words pouring from her mouth - her heart was beating with the intensity of a hummingbird, threatening at once to burst from her chest. “You look like you could use a wake-up; that is, if you’re not too busy with, uh -  _ that. _ ”

Asami pointed sheepishly to the envelope still clutched in Korra’s hand. Korra flushed again, throwing the envelope deep into her apartment with a faint  _ flap. _ She smiled at Asami, crooked grin and all, and leaned against her doorframe. 

“Coffee sounds good. Erm, gimme a minute to get ready,and I’ll meet you in the foyer?” 

“Sounds perfect.” Asami smirked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I'm back! Who would have thought that after a year, I'd still be writing fics? Anyway, it's been an absolute mess in the real world, and both my Clexa fic and Nightwatch have been suffering because of it. Maybe Korrasami week will be just the thing I need to jumpstart my writing again, and after this I'll be hoping to get back into those two. 
> 
> Anyway, here's part one of Korrasami week 2016; a sort of nonsensical, drabble-esque interpretation? Not even sure if I've done domestic life properly. In any case, enjoy, and thanks for reading!


	2. Day Two; Gamer Girlfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra stress relieves with video games. She can be kinda noisy; hopefully not noisy enough to wake her roommate up.

“Dude, I said _ no _ launchers. That’s some noob shit.” 

“Well it’s in the game, so it’d be stupid not to use them, right? Like, it’s only fair -  _ shit! _ ”

“Aha! Fine, use them all you want; it’s not helping you anyway.”

Bolin looked on dejectedly at his corner of the screen as Korra’s avatar squatted over his headless corpse, miming vulgar actions with expressionless glee. Beside him, the real Korra was busy doing very much the same thing, only with an overly smug face and much, much closer. 

“Please get your crotch out of my face.” Bolin mumbled uncomfortably.

“Seconded.” Opal mused from her spot in the kitchen, where she poured over textbooks.

Korra passed her friends an apologetic glance, before throwing herself back down onto the couch. She yawned, scratching the bit of stomach revealed by her tank top. 

“Rematch?” 

Bolin rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have readings to do?” 

Korra scoffed. “Yeah, but I’ve got until Thursday to do them.”

“Korra, it’s Wednesday, and,” Bolin checked his watch. “It’s 9PM.”

“Dude, like I said - I still have  _ until  _ Thursday to do them. Hey,” Korra grunted, as she softly nudged Bolin with her foot from her spot on the couch. “Don’t pretend like you’re not itching to prove yourself worthy. Bring it, Bo’.” 

Bolin sighed, smiling. “Fine.” 

“She’s just gonna kick your ass again.” Opal spoke without so much a glance away from her textbooks. 

“Thanks, Babe.” Bolin hummed while choosing his loadout. 

“I swear,” Korra laughed, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth in concentration. “Ever since I got this thing, I’ve dropped a whole letter grade. Totally worth it though.”

“Oh my god,” Bolin snorted. “That’s why you’re winning - c’mon Korra, it’s not fair that you get to practice  _ all day. _ ” 

“Please, it’s all natural skill. And it’s not  _ all day _ \- maybe, like, four or five hours, tops.” 

“Jeez,” Bolin grunted, as he died again. “Where do you find the time between class and work to grind so much.”

“Nighttime, usually.” Korra smirked. “I haven’t been to bed before 2AM in a loooong time.” 

“Doesn’t your roommate get sick of all this noise?” 

Korra whooped as she blasted Bolin’s avatar into a thousand tiny pieces of pixelated flesh. 

Her grin was impossibly wide. “Nah, it’s fine. I wear headphones at night, so it’s all good.” 

“I kinda meant the noise  _ you _ make.” Bolin chuckled. “You’re not exactly, uh - a  _ quiet _ victor, you know.” 

Korra frowned, but she couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt. She hadn’t seen much of her roommate, who seemed to spend much of her time either locked in her room, at class, or somewhere in the library, as she had often inferred from her notes on their communal whiteboard. Still, Korra wondered that just because she  _ thought  _ she was keeping it quiet and lowkey, whether that actually had translated to  _ being _ quiet and lowkey. 

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Korra grumbled. “It’s not like she’s ever complained about it.” 

“What if she’s just holding back?” Bolin suppressed a whoop as he sniped off Korra. “Everyone knows you don’t take confrontation well.” 

“ _ What?! _ ” Korra exclaimed. “I’ll have you know that I take confrontation  _ very  _ well. I’m possibly the most negotiable person you’ll ever meet.” 

Korra bellowed in raucous laughter as she obliterated Bolin. 

“ _ Suck it!  _ Oh my god, that’s probably the best one yet.” 

“ **_Korra?_ ** ” 

Both Bolin and Korra whipped their heads around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Her roommate's door was open, the soft, orange light of a desk lamp shining from deep within an otherwise darkened room. In the doorway stood a tall, bespectacled woman dressed in a red lumpy corduroy sweater, her impossibly wavy hair tied back in a messy bun, high-end headphones wrapped around her neck. 

“Hey, Asami.” Korra coughed. “What’s up?” 

Asami’s face was unmoving. “I have some work I need to finish up for tomorrow night. Could you please be a little bit quieter?” 

“Uh,” Korra could feel a warmth of embarrassment climbing up the back of her neck. “Y-yeah, sure. Sorry.” 

Asami gave a noncommittal smile of thanks, and disappeared back into her room. As soon as the door closed behind her, Bolin gave a low, quiet whistle. 

“Wow,” He grinned innocently. “ _ That’s _ your roommate?” 

“Yeah,” Korra said, trying, and failing, to maintain an air of indifference. “Why? What’s - she’s just - yeah, she’s my roommate. Whatever.” 

“She’s very pretty.” Bolin said, nudging Korra from his spot on the carpet. “Don’t you think?” 

“Buh -” Korra blushed, shaking her head. “What - dude, are you kidding me, Opal’s right here, dude.” 

Korra laughed, a look of incredulity on her face, but Opal simply shrugged. 

“She’s pretty bangin’” Opal said, her focus still unflinching.

“Wow!” Korra exclaimed, red faced. “If you guys like her so much, why don’t you guys go and, like, ask her out, or something?! Bolin, better - better fuckin’ focus on the game or I’ll destroy you again!” 

Bolin smirked as he turned back to the tv, feeling like he’d finally won that evening. 

  
  


**Later that evening.**

Korra glanced to the digital clock that hung from their kitchen wall. 

_ 12:35AM. Eh, I don’t have class till 11AM. That means if I play one more game, and it finishes at 1AM, then I have two hours to do my readings, then I can get 6 hours of sleep and still get to class on time.  _

_ Perfect.  _ Korra smirked at her great planning skills as she watched the graphic for matchmaking spin on the screen. 

One game rolled into two. Two games rolled into four “quick games”, which rolled into a competitive match because Korra was “sick and tired of all these casual scrubs not taking the game seriously”, which rolled into 3:45AM in the morning. 

Despite the earbuds plugged into her controller, she couldn’t help but be self-conscious about her own volume levels, especially after Bolin had brought it to her attention that she might, through no fault of her own, be a little bit noisy in her self-congratulations. 

That, of course, all went out the window when she finally won a long-fought match. 

“ **_YES_ ** _! _ ” Korra screamed.  _ Screamed. _ ”Fucking -  **Woo** ! I can’t - holy  **_shit_ ** , somebody, anybody, I gotta call - well I gotta call everyone, right? Holy  **_fucking_ ** **shit** , did I record that? I gotta put that on YouTube, I swear,  **honestly** \- “ 

“ _ Korra! _ ” 

Korra froze, swivelling on the spot slowly. In the darkened living room, with the only light beaming fluorescently from the television, she scanned for the source of the high-pitched squeal. With her headphones in, she hadn’t heard Asami’s door open. She hadn’t heard Asami walk up to their couch, she hadn’t even heard Asami’s protests until she literally  _ screamed _ her name. 

“Asami!” Korra squeaked sheepishly, wary of the wrathful expression on her roommates sleep-deprived visage. “Aha - What are you doing up, I thought you had class early in the morning.” She chuckled nervously, attempting to dispel the fury that Asami seemed to radiate. 

Somehow, Asami managed to make a tanktop and pyjama pants seem intimidating. She even had an eye mask lifted to her forehead - perhaps, in another world, in another time, Korra would have joked about it, but now didn’t seem like the best time. 

“Yes,” Asami said slowly. “I do have class tomorrow morning. It just so happens there’s an  _ idiot _ making an almighty  _ ruckus _ in the room right outside my bedroom.” Her knuckles were almost white, her brilliant green eyes narrow and sharp, piercing - Korra could almost feel them scratching their way into her brain. 

“Oh, yeah about that - look,” Korra let her shoulders droop. “I’m really, really sorry. It’s just that - I’ve been stressing out tonnes about all my coursework. And that’s not really - I’m not trying to make an excuse, so,” Korra sighed heavily, unplugging her headphones. “Look, I’ll just, turn this off and you can get back to what you were doing. Er, sleeping. Whatever. Sorry.” 

Asami’s expression visibly softened, her lips parting slightly to release a quiet sigh, a twitch in her jaw betraying a considered thought as she watched Korra march dejectedly over to the console.

“Hey, wait.” Asami interjected. She closed her eyes, as if regretting a decision hadn’t made yet. “Don’t - you can keep playing your… games.” 

“What?” Korra said, brow furrowed in surprise. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Asami sighed. “I get it. Just - please keep it down, okay? Everyone needs a release, even if it’s,” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “ _ Those _ .”

She pointed to a stack of games beside the console. She eyed them curiously, then gave Asami an incredulous stare. 

“What, what’s wrong with video games?” 

Asami’s eyes widened with a look of genuine surprise. “I - nothing. Nothing at all.”

“What, some sort of puritan? Believe video games are the devil’s tool?” Teased Korra. Probably not the wisest decision against the girl who just forgave her for making a racket past three in the morning. 

Asami rolled her eyes. “No, it’s just - “

Korra sneered playfully. “I’ll bet you’ve never even  _ played _ these games.”

Asami opened her mouth to retort, a flash of challenge appearing in her eyes then dissipating moments later. Korra knew she had struck a nerve - Asami Sato was famously competitive, and perhaps, just perhaps - 

Asami marched her way around the couch and grabbed the second controller that Bolin had left behind after the fourth rematch and loss. 

“Scoot,” Asami said, taking the seat on the couch.. 

“Really?” Korra smirked. “Is this happening? Because I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty good.” 

“Shut up.” Asami said, flipping through the loadouts. “Are you serious - none of you have even  _ broken into _ the final tier yet.” 

Korra’s eyebrows shot into her messy cropped hair. “I - what?” 

“Look,” Asami sighed. “Are you going to pick your loadout, or am I going to have to go back to bed?” 

“Uh,” Korra gaped at her roommate for a full five seconds before she took the spot next to Asami on the couch. “Y-yeah. Sure, uh,” She flipped through the weapons before settling. “Yup. Okay.” 

“Ready up.”

“Oh, right.”

“Choose the level.”

“Er, right. Got any preference?”

“Not Lakehouse or Dynamo.”

“Reactor?”

“Do alternate reactor.”

“Done. Oh -”

“It’s  _ circle, _ Korra, not  _ X _ \- honestly…” 

“Sorry.” Korra swore under her breath.  _ What on earth is happening.  _

They sat in uncomfortable silence as the level loaded, Korra nervously eyeing the unfamiliar girl sitting beside her. Despite knowing very little about Asami, she felt she knew  _ this particular  _ Asami Sato even less. Asami was staring intently at the screen, elbows balanced on her knees, gently tapping the buttons on her controller in steady rhythm. 

The level loaded.

“So, uh,” Korra coughed, trying to find her previous bravado. “Should I go easy on you, or -”

_ First Blood. _

“Shit!” Korra exclaimed. “How the fuck - where did you -”

“So,” Asami hummed under her breath, unflinching, unwavering, still staring intently at the screen. “What’s the stakes?” 

“P-pardon?” 

Asami rolled her eyes. Impressively done, considering she managed to get a second kill on Korra at the same time. “Like, should we bet on this? Shouldn’t be a problem, right, because you’re  _ totally _ going to win.” 

“Er,” Korra said, frantically scrambling to avoid Asami’s rain of bullets. “Sure? What did you have in mind?” 

“Well,” Asami said, snatching a melee kill on Korra. “When my dad and I used to play this game, the loser would have to buy ice-cream. Sound fair?” 

“Oh - uh, sure. I guess.”  _ Sounds like a date. Focus, Korra!  _ “Ice-cream. Right. Wait,” Korra chewed her lip in concentration, her eyes burning with focus. “You used to play this game with your dad?”

Asami hummed in acknowledgement. “During the playtesting phase. We smoothed out  _ most  _ of the bugs, but there was always this one that we couldn’t work out how to fix -”

Korra yelped as explosions rolled through the map, torching everything on the screen and causing several seconds of lag. 

“- so we just kept it in, I guess. Kinda neat, huh?” 

Korra could hardly believe how badly her ass was getting handed to her, but what little cognitive thought that remained managed to catch that last bit of Asami’s sentence. 

“Wait, you and your dad  _ playtested  _ this game?” 

Asami laughed. Not unkindly, but teasingly. Almost. “We  _ developed _ this game. Sato? As in the SatoBox One?” Asami managed to sneak a look of disbelief at Korra while gutting Korra’s avatar. “Please don’t tell me that detail slipped by you.” 

“You -” Korra stuttered as she died again. “You and your dad  _ own  _ the company?!” 

“And the first-party devs, publishers, distributors,” Asami wrinkled her nose as Korra managed to snatch a kill. “Nice shot.”

“Yeah.” Korra said blankly. What on earth had she gotten into. 

The massacre continued for another ten minutes, at which point the announcer declared Asami a winner by a healthy one-hundred-and-seventy-two-point lead. 

“Well,” Asami laughed complacently. “That was a fun retro experience.” She dumped her controlled on the couch, rising to stretch, as Korra sat, slack-jawed and eyes wide in a gormless expression. 

“Buh.” Korra managed to groan. “What the  _ fuck - _ ” 

“So, now that I’ve served you your own  _ ass, _ ” Asami whispered, as she strutted proudly back to her door. “You’ll go to bed now, yeah?” 

Korra brushed her hair back with one hand, still stupefied. “Guh - sure. Yeah. Probably for the best.” 

“Fantastic,” Asami yawned. “You know, that was actually pretty fun, Korra. Thanks for letting me play with you.” 

The words seemed to knock Korra out of her frozen state. She turned around on the couch, only to catch a long, lingering smile from Asami, and a sly wink. 

“Oh.” Korra flushed red. Good thing the room was dark, otherwise Asami would know that she’d won in game  _ and  _ in real life. “S-sure. You can play with me anytime. Er -” Korra gave a nervous chuckle. “You know what I mean.” 

Asami gave a coy smirk. “I’d love to play with you again.” Asami laughed as Korra’s eyes widened, her mouth forming a perfect little  _ ‘O’.  _

Asami shook her head, almost in disbelief at the words falling out of their mouths. “Maybe it’s time we  _ both  _ went to bed, right? Goodnight, Korra.” 

“Right.” Korra said, clearing her throat. “Night.”

Korra rose to turn off the console, and Asami shuffled into her bedroom. Just before she closed her door, she leaned against the doorframe. 

“Chocolate.” Asami said smugly.

Korra glanced up, confused. “What?” 

“You owe me chocolate ice-cream,” Asami said pointedly. “And none of the cheap stuff. And I want a  _ tub _ .” 

Korra managed to compose herself enough to tease Asami with a lopsided grin. “Well, I guess that’s fair.” 

Asami nodded, turning to disappear into her bedroom, but not before calling out; “Don’t worry, I’ll share.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyy day two! check it, on schedule so far! thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed it! also it's like almost 2am and I have work tomorrow morning so this is probably fraught with errors which i may or may not correct cause i'll be dead all day so


	3. Day Three; College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami's room-mate studies too hard, and she worries about her health.

To a lot of people - that is, people who didn’t know her well - Korra seemed to be the kind of person that didn’t take exams too seriously. Conventionally attractive and charismatic when she wanted to be, clearly athletic and more than once thought to be attending due to a sports scholarship, to most, she seemed the type that should be laid back, laughing off approaching deadlines, eagerly favouring parties and pub crawls, rather than nights spent in her dorm room or nestled away in the library, huddled by her dim desk lamp, pouring over readings that weren’t due for weeks ahead of time. 

To a lot of people, it was endless amusement, and occasionally disappointment to the few friends she had made when they found that she was the exact opposite. A constant worrier, nervously scribbling down notes whenever she had the opportunity to get another paragraph of her assignments done or a chapter to be read. Korra had spent way too many nights up far too late, and it had begun to take its toll.

“My parents paid a lot of money to send me here,” She would say each time. “It wasn’t cheap, so I want to make sure that I do well.” 

It all began when the two had met at the beginning of the year. They hadn’t had much time to get to know each other, despite being roommates, as their conversation had been fairly brief. 

“Hey,” Asami had said, smiling, her hand outstretched. “I’m Asami. Nice to meet you.” 

Korra glanced down, struggling to free her hand from a stack of books she already had clutched to her chest. “Oh, hi - Korra. Erm - likewise.” 

Asami quirked an eyebrow at the heavy reading load. “That’s a lot of books. I didn’t think classes started till Monday.”

Korra shuffled, frowning slightly. “Oh, uh -” She coughed, trying to seem nonchalant. “Yeah, but I thought I might get a headstart on it all, you know?”

“How do you even know your reading assignments?” 

“Oh, well I guess I don’t,  _ really,  _ but I thought I’d just - hit up each of the first chapters, you know?” 

Asami blinked in awe. Here she was, meeting someone even more fastidious and studious than she was. 

“Wow, that’s - I gotta say, that’s pretty impressive dedication.” 

Korra hummed something of an acknowledgement, and with a short goodbye, disappeared out of their dorm, intent for the library. 

That was all that Asami saw of Korra, really. Apart from fleeting greetings in the morning, hesitant and awkward shuffles past each other to and from the bathroom, they said little to each other beyond pleasantries. They got on well enough, but there was a certain air to Korra that told Asami that she hadn’t come to make friends. 

And that worried Asami. She had seen this before - hell, she had  _ lived  _ this sort of thing. The want to be the best, to prove oneself, to exert all your mindpower until you had nothing left to give; they were all warning signs of someone who was going to rapidly burnout. 

Asami wanted to say something several times, but each time something held her back. Who was she to say anything? She was just a roommate, someone who Korra didn’t even seem to register as noteworthy in her almost perpetual state of studying. She didn’t want to impose, seem one to tell others how and what they ought to be doing with  _ their  _ time. 

She wanted to though, she wanted to tell Korra to take it easy, to take care of herself. Perhaps it was the irritating, flitting sensation in her stomach that compelled her to do so, and at the same time gave her pause and hesitation whenever she thought about talking to Korra. 

Fortunately, and only fortunately for Asami, the moment presented itself when one night, just before dinnertime, Korra came back to their dorm, collapsing into her bed, huffing and weary-looking, hair askew and carrying what seemed to be twice as many books as before. 

“Hey, Korra -  _ woah _ .” Asami climbed off her spot on her own bed where she had been browsing some of the campus literature on her tablet. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.” Asami said, trying to stem the tinge of worry that wanted to pour into her tone. “Have - have you been in the library  _ all _ day?” 

Korra coughed, dumping the stack of books onto her bed. Some of them bounced agitatedly off, threatening to crush a toe.

“N-no,” Korra said, her voice breaking slightly from disuse. “I went to the coffee shop for lunch.”

“The coffee shop?” Asami said inquisitively. “The one attached to the library?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So, technically you  _ have _ been in the library all day.” Asami frowned. “Look, I never thought I’d be the one to say this - ‘cause I thought  _ I  _ was the classic over-studier - but really Korra, you gotta reel it in slightly. You’re going to burn out before midterms at this rate.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Asami blinked speechlessly at Korra, watching her fumble with her satchel as she kicked off her heavy leather boots, sighing with complacency as she sank into her bed. 

“Have you even had dinner yet, Korra?” Asami muttered, her hands idly fiddling with the buttons on her blouse. “I was about to head out - we can go together, if you want.” 

Korra shook her head. “I had a croissant.” She mumbled, eyes closed in a moments reprieve. 

Asami nodded slowly, before something occurred to her. “What did you have for lunch?”

Korra’s body stiffened. “I, uh - I had a pastry.” 

“A croissant?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You had croissants for lunch  _ and  _ dinner. Two croissants.” 

“Ye - well, I had half a croissant for dinner. And lunch.”

“You - you had  _ one croissant _ all day?!”

“Yes - so?” Korra huffed impatiently, sitting up on her bed. “Look, you’re nice and all, Asami - but I don’t need you  _ mothering  _ me.”

Asami’s eyes met Korra’s in a moment’s clash, before Asami shrugged indignantly, grabbing her jacket and briskly heading out the door. 

As soon as the door closed, Korra’s stomach grumbled. She groaned, heaving herself up from her bed to her desk, dumping open the first textbook she could reach, and set herself to reading.

The next time they spoke properly was a week later. Classes were filling the empty air, and the two didn’t see each other much outside of class - Korra spent much of her time in the library, only to return far too late to a room with a sleeping Asami. Concurrently, Korra’s classes were much later in the day, so when Asami arose to attend to hers, she’d leave a sleeping Korra behind. 

Neither of them usually made much use of the room outside of sleeping, so it was only by chance that Asami came back sometime towards late evening to see Korra sat between two towers of cautiously balanced tomes, her hair frazzled and glasses askew. 

“Hey,” Asami said, announcing her arrival.  “Thought you would be in the library.” 

Korra looked up from her desk, giving Asami a wayward shrug of acknowledgement. “Library was too busy.”

Asami shuffled in her spot by the door, shaking the cold of the night from her coat. 

“Been at it all day, huh?” 

Korra snorted. “Are you going to start again, Sato?” 

Asami had been relegated to surname status since their initial meeting. Still, she felt bad for haranguing Korra. 

“No, it’s just -” She cleared her throat, shaking off the daggers that Korra’s tone stabbed at her chest. “Have you had dinner yet? I’m not judging -” She added hastily, when Korra glanced up with frustrated eyes. “I just - I have some leftovers from dinner. You’re free to have them, if you’d like.” 

Korra blinked, her refute dying on the tip of her tongue as Asami held the plastic bag up for Korra to observe. The comforting smell of soup filled the room, soothing and hearty. 

“Oh.” Korra mumbled. “Oh, uh, n-no thanks. Asami. Thanks, though. That’s very - very nice of you.” 

“Right.” Asami grimaced, but not giving up. “I’ll just leave this here then, if you feel like it later.” She said, placing the plastic bag and bowl on the shelf that sat by the door. “We ordered way too much, so don’t feel like you’re overstepping anything - I’m definitely not going to be eating anything. It was really good,” Asami smirked. “ _ Especially _ the garlic bread.” 

Asami could swear she saw Korra’s ears physically perk up. She grinned mischievously. 

“Garlic bread, huh?” Korra said quietly. “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to have any - “

“Two slices,” Asami said, peering into the leftovers. “Should still be hot and crunchy for the next twenty minutes or so. Shame,” Asami feigned a sigh of disappointment. “Guess I’ll just have to throw it out in the morning. Anyway, I’m going to take a shower.” 

“Do whatever you need to do, Sa - Asami.” 

Asami nodded, grabbing her shower bag and disappearing into the bathroom. Half an hour later, Asami re-entered their room, billowing steam behind her, a complacent smile on her face. She glanced sideways to the shelf - the bag was gone, and an empty takeaway bowl sat in their bin. 

Asami felt a grin curl in the corners of her lips, but said nothing. She climbed into her own bed, quietly pleased with herself. 

Korra silently thanked Asami for not rubbing it in. 

The next day, when Asami came home early in the afternoon from a string of morning classes, she found a pastry box sitting on her desk. 

_ “Thanks for dinner. -K”  _

Asami chuckled as she opened the box to reveal three fresh croissants. 

The next time they met was in the library. Asami silent marched along the bank of study desks, side-eyeing the other students who were clearly not using the area for its intended purpose, choosing instead to chatter quietly to each other, occupying vital space that other students, such as herself, could be putting to good use. 

Asami sighed, pausing in the centre of the crowded hall. Their university was an older one, the sort that had a european design, with cathedral like ceilings and grand, open spaces. Asami gazed with weary eyes for a quiet spot for her to sit, and hopefully get a moment’s revision in.

But of course she couldn’t. It was finals week now, and everyone was either studying, or at least pretending to study and hoping to deceive everyone, especially themselves, that they were putting the effort in.

Asami didn’t find a spot until she spotting the telltale tower of tomes tucked away in an even quieter corner of the library that she hadn’t even known existed. Almost barred by the rolling archive shelves, she her curiosity was piqued when she heard what seemed to be the faint sound of someone sleeping, the quiet hum and purr that drew her to find a mop of cropped hair slumped over an open book, a pen idly scrawling a line where the hand holding it had slipped away. 

To Asami, Korra looked like a raging bonfire that had just been put out. 

“Hey,” Asami said, a soft hand on Korra’s shoulder. “Korra? Are you okay?” 

“Mmmpfh…” Korra hardly moved.  

Asami sighed, grinning slightly. Trust Korra to literally study until her body gave up. 

She gave her a stronger nudge. “Hey, you should probably head back to the dorm if you’re too tired - “

Korra moaned softly in her sleep. “A-Asami... “ 

Oh. 

**_Oh_ **

**_Oh no._ **

“Korra,” Asami whispered hurriedly, red faced and frantic. “Please get up, you’re -” 

Korra’s head shot up as she startled away, wide-eyed and bleary. “- Ah!” 

“- Ah!” Asami jumped as Korra sprang to life. “Christ, Korra, you scared me -”

Korra blinked herself awake, rubbing her eyes in a half-daze. “Asami?” Her voice was hoarse from disuse. “Wha - what are you doing in here?”

“The library, you mean?” Asami willed her heart to slow down. “Looking for somewhere quiet to study, when I came across sleeping beauty here.” She smirked.

Korra winced at the bright lights, eyes squinting at Asami’s general direction, still clearly drowsy and lethargic. 

“Hey,” Asami said, placing a soft hand on Korra’s arm. “Want to grab a coffee? Looks like you could use one.” 

Korra said nothing, at first. For a moment, Asami thought she hadn’t heard her, and maybe she had somehow managed to fall asleep again with her eyes half-closed. 

“Yeah,” Korra said suddenly, stretching and getting to her feet. “Okay.” 

“Y-yeah?” Asami sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” Korra repeated.” I could use a break, I guess.” 

Asami laughed, dumping her bag on Korra’s desk. “I’ll say.” 

They gathered their essentials and left everything else to stand guard over their spot, and made their way to the adjoining cafe - a small establishment, more of a hole in the wall than anything else. Most of the seats were empty at this hour, with overcast threatening rain at any moment and greater looming threat of exams, most students took their coffee to go, fleeing to their dorms or some other quiet, sheltered area to consume their caffeine in desperate search of a few more fleeting moments of alertness. 

“Two capps, please.” Asami turned to Korra. “Go sit down, I’ll bring them to you.” 

Korra complacently obliged, finding a corner booth and immediately resting her head among her arms on the table infront of her. Asami look on with a worried expression, joining her a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee. 

“Hey,” Asami said, prodding Korra’s lifeless body. “Are you okay?” 

She pushed the cup and saucer to Korra hesitantly, as if worried any more sudden bursts of alertness might send the scalding liquid flying. Instead, Korra raised her head slowly, but instead of taking the coffee offered, she turned to Asami.

“No, Sato, I am not okay.” She said, wistfully. “I am far, far, far from okay.” 

Asami watched Korra with concern, sipping at her coffee slowly. Outside, it began to rain softly, and the two of them watched in quiet contemplation as students screamed and yelped, hurriedly rushing off to find shelter, some not sure whether or not to use their hundred-dollar-textbooks as cover, or whether they should be covering them in turn. 

But at least inside the cafe, it was warm. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Asami said after waiting. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” 

Korra sat her chin atop her forearm, raindrops reflecting off her deep blue eyes as they trickled down the glass windows. 

“I come from a small village,” Korra said quietly, more to herself than at Asami. “We have like - maybe two dozen people? And it’s not well off,” She winced slightly at her words. “It’s not like we’re struggling, we just - it’s  _ remote _ , let’s put it that way.” 

Asami nodded slowly, and Korra continued. 

“My parents - they gave up  _ so  _ much to send me to Republic City. They gave… everything. Everything, just so I could get a better education... a-and live the life,that t-they… they -”

Korra paused, her voice hitching in her throat. She shook her head, burrowing her face in her arms again as her chest heaved slightly. Asami felt a pang of guilt, of sorrow. It was all she could do, to place a reassuring hand on Korra’s back, her thumb tracing soft lines to sooth her shuddering breaths apart. 

“Hey,” Asami whispered softly. “It’ll be okay. You’re smart, but you’re studying too hard -”

Korra grunted. “What do you know, Sato? I hardly ever see you studying at all, so why -”

Asami flared up. “Because I used to be in exactly the same position as you are right now.” She couldn’t help but feel a little hurt from Korra’s presumptions, than she assumed she had come from a perfect family, that she didn’t have expectations of her own to live up to. “I almost  _ died _ , Korra. I used to work myself so close to the edge that half the time I only sleep only when I fainted from exhaustion. I know exactly what it’s like to want to prove yourself to your parents, but at the same time you have no idea how high you need to reach before they’ll be happy. I know  _ exactly _ what it’s like, Korra, which is why now I know to fucking ease it up, because believe me, I’ve looked over the edge, and I knew that if I stayed on my path I’d be falling off it.”

Korra’s brilliant blue were staring up over her arms, apologetic and fearful. She looked shocked, hesitant to say anything as if even the more innocent words would hurt her further. 

Above all, she looked as if she finally understood. 

Asami calmed herself. “So take it easy.” She said quietly. “Or one day, you’ll wake up in the hospital. You’ll want to keep working, so they’ll send you to a therapist. They’ll break you apart, to show you all the cracks you wanted to keep hidden, so you can finally put yourself back together, piece by piece.

I get that you want to work hard, Korra. But I guarantee you’ll be fine if you take some time to take care of yourself. Your parents didn’t send you here so you could fall apart due to stress.” 

Asami swallowed the lump in her throat, washing it down with warm coffee. She watched the rain splash against the paved path outside, cascading down bushes and leaves, down low hanging trees and the occasional umbrella that marched diligently through. 

She startled slightly when she felt Korra’s hand slid into hers. She glanced down to see her own hands knuckled white in her iron grip around her cup, at once softening to let Korra’s hand into her own. Even so, she glanced up at Korra, who was still staring out the window, melancholic, but contemplative. 

“Thanks, Asami.” She said between breaths. 

Asami nodded, giving Korra’s hand a soft squeeze. They were soft and rough at the same time, as if gentle to the touch, but still betraying the years of experience they had seen. 

“You -  _ We’ll  _ make it through this.” 

Korra nodded, and for a moment, Asami could swear she saw the faint outline of a crooked smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy am I late! but it's okay, i've come to terms with it, and i've actually come up with some (bullshit) reasons why~  
> i do plan on finishing korrasami week, because a) i think it's good writing practice and b) i love korrasami so much you have no idea. however I'll be taking my time with it now that there's no urgency (cause i've missed the deadline ahahahahahahahahaha by sooo much). i feel its better this way too, because now i can sit down and give each prompt some thought and consideration, rather then churning out the same formulaic dribble that i feel i've been doing. 
> 
> anyway, here was some angst?fluff. i basically kept writing until I felt like I was at a good place with the narrative, and wrapped it up there. It might feel a little rushed in places so i apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy at least some of it! Thanks for reading, and comments are always appreciated !


	4. Day Four; Moving In Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami and Korra move in together, and find that their constant exposure to each other can be a little bit... unproductive.  
> [NSFW]

From they moment they moved in together, they knew it was going to be a problem.

It started off innocently enough. A few sheepish, coy grins here and there, a bit of gentle nudging and playful banter, and they thought they had conquered it all. They scoffed at the notion of rules, humbly declaring something about being adults, something about self-control, something about having better things to do, other than doing _t_ _hat_ all day.

They thought they could muzzle it, and thought themselves the masters of the universe when they managed to last an hour without sneaking pecks and kisses and sly, telling touches, despite being the only two inhabitants of their new, cosy apartment.

 

On the first day, they managed to stave off the hunger until midday, just before lunch.

“Okay,” Asami panted breathlessly, lying the wrong way around on their bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling with a flutter in her chest, a warmth between her legs, and a grin she couldn’t keep down. “We need to set some rules.”

Korra hummed, lying naked across Asami’s stomach, her face planted in their pillow. “Rules,” She managed with a muffled grunt. “Probably a good idea. I love rules.”

A phone chirped from their bedside table, and Asami wiggled underneath the weight of Korra’s sweaty body to reach for it.

She groaned as she checked her reminders. “Ugh, I’ve got a paper due by midnight tomorrow.” She slapped Korra’s bare backside, earning her a burning glare. "And you have a client to see this afternoon.”

Korra sighed, sinking back into the soothing comfort of the bed. “That’s not for another few hours. And it’s an easy session – it’s the sweet old lady who wants to stay active. Hell, she’ll probably out-do me anyway.”

Asami hummed, her fingers stroking senseless patterns against Korra’s skin. “Still - _rules_. We’ve got things to do.”

Korra turned slightly to eye Asami with vice. “You’re a thing to do.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “Charming; how you got me to bed the first time, I’ll never know.”

Korra smirked, readjusting her spot until she found herself nestled in a space beside Asami, busying herself in the crook of Asami’s neck.

“Easy,” Korra purred, her lips brushing against Asami’s collarbone. “I started like this, and then my hand went like _this –_ “

Her hands found Asami’s hips drawing them close as she nipped at Asami’s neck, earning a soft, shuddering moan as her still-sensitive skin prickled to the touch once more.

“- and I’m sure you remember the rest of it.” Korra grinned, a dangerous glint in her eye. “Or did you want a reminder?”

Asami stared down at Korra’s eyes, almost electric blue in the early midday light that poured in from inconspicuously open windows. She chewed her bottom lip, struggling to think against the burning sensation on her neck where Korra’s mouth had been moments ago. She tensed her jaw, swallowing deeply, and when Korra took it as invitation to continue, she sighed, gasping slightly as Korra’s hands wandered, only to pull Korra’s face up to her mouth, stealing her attention with a quick, desperate kiss.

As they broke for breath, Korra smirked into Asami’s lips.

They grinned back and spoke softly.

“Rules,” Asami panted into Korra’s mouth between tastes. “After this, rules.”

Korra nodded slightly, surrendering to her demands. “After this, rules.”

 

An hour later, they sat in complacent sanctuary, and made the Rules, which were as follows;

  * Only _once_ after waking up, then only _once_ in the shower. Teeth **must** be brushed in between. Someone needs to buy a shower mat so they don’t fall. The debate as to who exactly is to buy the mat continues to this day.
  * Both parties must ensure that they leave a two hour block in post for cuddling; even if it only lasts an hour or so, there’s an ample buffer period.
  * No sex if Asami is within 12 hours of a deadline. No sex less than 4 hours before Korra has a client, shorted to 2 if it’s the particular lady who can somehow always sense that it’s happened, and always remarks that Korra is “Glowing” afterwards.  
  * Absolutely no fooling around an hour before mealtimes. Asami wanted to add “Wait half an hour after meals to avoid getting cramps”,but Korra debunked that as an old wives tale. Asami was more than happy to remove the addendum.
  * If it’s after midnight, only permissible if neither of them have to wake up before 11AM the following day.
  * Casual fooling around while watching Netflix is fine, but if one wants to actually watch the show, the other must respect that.
  * No banging in the kitchen. Asami declared it a health and safety issue.
  * If they were out somewhere and wanted to come home, the signal was to cup both hands around their glass or bottle and drink deep, and then say, “This is great! But it would be even better with a twist of lemon.”



Bargaining. Debating. Clarification, and re-clarification, and re-clarification after that. Arguments that ended in kisses, disagreements that were solved by smooches, the rules were made in the hottest of fires and cast in the hardest of casts, and for all the time that was spent making them fool-proof, it mattered little because in a mere four days, they had broken each and every single one of them.

 

On the second day, it was in the shower, and they broke two rules at once. Korra groaned as Asami pressed her up against the cold tiles of their shower, a stream of hot water coursing over their bodies, Asami’s lips leaving searing bruises against Korra’s shoulder.

Korra closed her eyes, surrendering to the bliss, but a nagging thought tore them open again.

Korra clenched her jaw, willing herself to focus. “What time is it?” She huffed against the steam.

Asami grunted, pulling away to frown at Korra. “Please don’t say _bone-time_ babe, it really doesn't do it for me, and besides, the harness is in the wash –“

Korra laughed, pressing a kiss against Asami’s forehead. “No – I mean the _actual_ time. I'm meeting a client at twelve.”

Asami pouted in thought. “I think its about quarter to ten.”

Korra rolled her eyes. “Asami –“

“Ten fifteen?”

“We woke _up_ at ten fifteen, and we were in bed for at least half an hour –“

“Fine,” Asami frowned. “It’s probably ten past eleven or so.”

Korra sighed. “Alright then, that’s the rule. I'm going to pack lunch – let me know when you’re finished in here?”

Asami nodded, and Korra stepped out of the shower onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, leaving puddles of water in her wake that she knew she would have to make up for later. Korra grabbed a towel from the rack, running it through her semi-damp hair, barely exerting effort due to the fact she hadn't really gotten it wet to begin with.

She chuckled at the irony. It had been close, but in the end, self-control managed to prevail. She turned to Asami as she ran the towel around her neck, patting dry her neck while she patted herself on the back for her astounding display of mature force of will. She grinned at Asami, wanting to boast with pride, only to find pause as she watched Asami bathing, watched as pulled her hair back, soaked coils running down her shaped shoulders, as streams trailed off the tips and around her hips and firm, taut legs, as she turned, eyes closed to step into the stream again, lathered and water pooling around her chest as she –

Korra cursed under her breath, throwing the half-damp towel into their laundry hamper as she marched back, almost slipping across the bathroom as she reached the shower, climbing back in just in time to see surprise fill Asami’s eyes as she cupped her cheeks to guide them to another breathless kiss.

“You’re going to be late.” Asami panted.

“Fuck it.” Korra replied, grinning into their next embrace.

 

It wouldn't be until the end of the week that the casualties of their recklessness were being made apparent. On more than one occasion, Korra had turned up late for a session. Asami was steadily falling behind in her degree work. Both Korra and Asami had almost badly hurt themselves in both the shower and the kitchen, and several fixtures were in dire need of repair.

It was Sunday evening when they made their resolution.

Asami’s hands ran through cropped hair as Korra laid her gently onto her desk, hungry lips moving from Asami’s mouth to tease at Asami’s ears, earning a sharp gasp of pain and soft moan of pleasure. Asami’s legs wrapped around Korra’s waist as she urged for closeness, and Korra’s hands wandered underneath Asami’s blouse in search of anything that would draw her name from Asami’s lips.

“Wait,” Asami coughed, voice hoarse and even then still urging. “W-wait, wait, wait -”

Korra froze, moving bunch a foot back to gaze at Asami with worried eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Asami thumped her head against the desk in frustration, feet finding purchase on a chair behind Korra. Korra stood still between Asami's legs, hands resting under her thighs, holding them in place.

“I need to finish this paper by tonight. Erm,” Asami shuffled awkwardly, reaching underneath her skirt to pull a crinkled paper from beneath her. “This one.”

Korra sighed, sinking into Asami’s desk chair, pulling her partner up to sit atop the desk. She lay her head upon Asami’s thigh, arms reaching around to hug her midriff tightly.

“We’ve kinda been overdoing it, huh.”

Asami grinned, gently running her hands through Korra’s hair, her free hand straightening her eyeglasses.

“It’s the world that can’t keep up with us.”

Korra laughed, the sound warming Asami to her core.

“So much for the rules.”

Asami smirked. “I suppose they were a bit, erm… optimistic, weren’t they?”

Korra grinned, eyes closed, humming in soft complacency as Asami stroked her scalp. She opened them moments later, and stared up to meet Asami’s gaze.

“I guess I better leave you to it, then.”

Asami nodded solemnly, jaw visibly tensing then Korra left one, final peck against her inner thigh.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Asami said, pushing Korra’s chair away with the heel of her foot.

Korra laughed, rising to her feet and making her way to the door. “But not until after you’re done, right?”

Asami nodded. “Right.”

Korra disappeared into the living room, and even though she was in the same house, Asami couldn’t help but feel her heart sink softly. And yet, she sighed in resolution, knowing that this time she’d have to keep the promise to herself. And Korra would understand, no doubt feeling the same ache as well, but these were the terms they had set, and it was the way things needed to be if they ever wanted to be productive human beings ever again.

And It wouldn’t mean that each time they touched would be any less special.

Waiting was good for the appetite.

After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot dang! didn't take too long for this one!  
> While it's not explicitly nsfw, I wanted the chapter to focus on their physical relationship, rather than smut itself. of course, if you want more smut, there's always my nightwatch fic (oh god don't remind me still need to finish that one off too) 
> 
> anyway, I hope you enjoyed this contribution to korrasami week 2016! at this rate, it's going to be korrasami week 2016-2017 ahahahaha oh god please give me productivity. 
> 
> [comments are always appreciated]


	5. Day Five; Space Girlfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Korra gets kidnapped by rogues while on a diplomatic mission, Asami sneaks onto an inhospitable and unfamiliar planet to save her love.

**EXTREME BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH**

 

> _Asami felt her heart bottom out._
> 
> _“What?!” She shrieked._
> 
> _“Miss Sato,” The voice said gravely. “Please rest assured; we are doing everything we can -”_
> 
> _“Where are you?” She said, scrambling around her room, throwing clothes into a bag. “Where are your operations? I want to know_ everything _that’s going on with the investigation now, corporal, and I will not tolerate any lapse in information -”_
> 
> _The voice changed. “Asami?”_
> 
> _“Mako.” Asami paused. “What’s happening. They said something about Korra. They mentioned her. Is she in trouble? Where are you - I’m coming right now -”_
> 
> _“They captured her.” Mako said quietly. “They ambushed her guard when she was returning from the Phobos summit. We’re currently heading to the Omashu Citadel Stratus.”_
> 
> _“I’m coming.” Asami said, a chill in her chest._
> 
> _“I know.” Mako said. “I can send someone to pick you up -”_
> 
> _“Don’t bother. My corvettes will get me there faster than anything on the United Republic Federation Fleet.”_
> 
> _“Asami -”_
> 
> _“I’ll see you soon, Mako.”_
> 
> _Asami ended the call, throwing her receiver across her bed. She pressed against the window of their apartment, gazing out to the neon horizon of the Republic City skyline._
> 
> _They had Korra._

 

Asami could already see the condensation trickling down the inside of her helmet. She blinked up at the twin suns that shone overhead - it would be daylight out for some time, and there was little chance that she’d be able to stand the heat for more than mere minutes at a time.

But she didn’t have much of a choice. There was no way her craft was going to find a better place to land, across the rolling dunes that seemed to shift and ripple with each solar wind. The gravity was low of course, but an eerie combination of the low gravitational pull of the planet, the bizarre electromagnetic forces of the binary solar system, and the heavy metal content in the sand meant that anything less dense than a chunk of manyullyn could dance through the air like dandelion seeds, if only for a few seconds before gravity reasserted itself.

Asami would have thought it almost beautiful, if she wasn’t so focused on finding Korra.

An irritating beep pierced her ears, and Mako’s disgruntled expression flickered into sight in the corner of her helmet's viewfinder.

“... Asami? Location, please.”

Asami ignored him, stepping back into the loading bay of her corvette-class ship.

“Asami,” Mako repeated, eyes sharp, but cautious. “Please. We can help -”

“No,” Asami snapped, locking a satchel of supplies into the rear of her suit. “You can’t. You _know_ you can’t. If they detect anything, that's it.”

Mako clenched his jaw. He knew the stakes, but he was stubborn. “You know stealth modifications are against Federation laws.”

Asami scoffed impatiently. “There’s a lot of stuff that’s against Federation laws. Don’t worry - it’s just for personal use. None of the commercial fleet are equipped with it. I wouldn’t want Varrick stealing any ideas, anyway.”

Asami thought she could see Mako breaking into a grin, but apparently it was only wishful thinking.

“You could have at least told us you were leaving.”

Asami glanced away, despite Mako’s icon following her view. She felt a stab of guilt in her gut; eloping from Omashu in high-orbit was reckless, but she only had a handful of opportunities of getting to the surface without anyone following her.

Or worse, trying to convince her not to come at all.

How could anyone even _consider_ that option?

“I’m… I’m sorry, Mako.” Asami sighed. “Really, I am. But I _need_ to do this. You know that, right?”

Mako closed his eyes in frustration. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

“I know. But those guys - Red Lotus? They’re _dangerous_ , Asami. We don’t have the schematics of their ships in our database. They’re running rogue specs – how else do you think they took down the Lo Feng confederacy without a _single casualty?_ Four ships, against an entire armada –“

“It’s a good thing I’m not planning to best them in a dogfight, then.”

Asami scanned herself into the corvette’s armoury, a reinforced cabinet no larger than a steamer trunk, but once she identified herself, it expanded to the height of the loading by, a rack of weapons before her.

“Asami,” Mako’s voice was grave with seriousness. “As a United Republic standing Enforcer, I cannot in good conscience let you proceed –“

Asami voice roared with frustration. “Listen, _Mako_ , I just can’t sit around and –“

“- However,” Mako’s voice cut over Asami’s. “As your friend –” He breathed deep, as if almost regretting the words he was about to say. “I wish you luck. Just… Just don’t make me regret not sending someone after you.”

Asami paused, her gauntlet resting hesitantly on the barrel of an EM-rifle.

“Thank you, Mako.” Asami said quietly, holstering the weapon. "I’m lucky to have a friend like you. We… We both are.”

Mako nodded in her visor, sighing. “Listen – I’ll promise I won’t interfere. I won’t even tell anyone where you are. But – at least let us track you. That way… If anything goes wrong, we’ll be able to find you.”

Asami furrowed her brow, glancing out the bay doors, watching the sands shift once more.

“Fine.” She said, unrestricting the corvette’s tracking system.

Mako breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair. “Thank you, Asami.”

“I better not see a single _trace_ of re-entry until I’m done.”

“You have my word.” Mako said. “Bo’s going to kill me when he finds out that I didn’t tell him, but I’ll deal with that later.” He paused, watching something silently off screen. “Asami?”

“Yeah?” Asami said, stepping off onto the sands, the bay doors closing behind her.

Mako hesitated, if only for a moment.

“Bring her home.”   

 

> _“Asami,” Korra whispered. “Look - they’re starting.”_
> 
> _She glanced up, watching the skydrifters high above, skimming through the cloud layer as they left a trail of incandescent lights behind. All around them, families oo-ed and ah-ed, friends cheered and celebrated the spectacle, and lovers joined in passionate embrace._
> 
> _Asami could feel a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt for some time. She gave Korra’s hand a soft squeeze of reassurance, and drew her closer, Korra’s head resting on her shoulder from where they sat on the pavilion lawns._
> 
> _“They’re beautiful.”_
> 
> _Korra smiled, the lights dancing across the sky reflecting in her eyes. Asami was glad to see colour amongst them again; the last few months had been hard for her, for both of them._
> 
> _“Anything that can make you smile is beautiful enough.” Asami whispered, pressing her lips to Korra’s forehead. “It was about time you took a break.”_
> 
> _“Diplomacy is hard like that,” Korra gave a tired laugh. “United Federation work is always hard.”_
> 
> _Asami hummed in agreement._
> 
> _“True. Let’s not talk about it then - let’s just enjoy the show.”_
> 
> _Asami knew she would never quite forget the sensation of watching the skydrifters, feeling the weight of Korra’s body against hers._
> 
>  

The almost rhythmic hiss of Asami's rebreather kept her focused as she marched along a ledge beneath the broken brass ridge, flanked from each side by jagged, spiked pillars of hardened sand that pierced the sky. High above, she could see wisps of sand-clouds drifting across the skyline, and beside her, down past the ledge she walked, she could see the canyon floor some hundred feet below, her viewfinder and optics scanning every crevice for signs of disturbance.

She instinctively reached back to stroke the grip of her rifle, her heartbeat racing every time she did. She knew it was an inevitability, that it would have to come to this. They wouldn’t let her go freely. She ran through the scenario in her mind a thousand times, never for once contemplating what would happen if she failed.

It wasn’t a reality she was prepared to accept.

Her optics chirped, and in a second, Asami’s reflexes dropped her to the ground, hugging the ledge as close as she could. She scanned the floor for where her optics had picked up movement. A man stood guard, shuffling about in front of a split in the cliff-face that couldn’t have been wider than the breadth of two people across.

Asami drew her rifle, her optics module linking with the scope of the rifle. The man stood in scavenged gear, the tell-tale emblem of Red Lotus haphazardly imprinted on his pauldrons. In his arms, he cradled a jury-rigged ballistic shotgun, nowhere near capable of reaching Asami with its sharpnel.

She loaded a round, and primed her suit's stabilizers, her eyes glancing between the sights aimed squarely on the man’s chest, and the wisps of sand-cloud that danced above.

Watching, waiting.

She could hear the soft hum of the solar winds washing over the world around her, the slow, steadying breath as her suit regulated her vitals. The sand-clouds danced in slow, calculated rhythm.

And for a moment, they lulled.

Asami squeezed the trigger. She heard the soft whistle of her EM round leaving the barrel, her stabilizers hissing slightly to adjust to the minute shift, drops of coolant spilling into her rifle to quench the heated coils.

It took half a second for the round to reach her target, silently catching him in the chest. Before he knew it, blood poured forth from a searing hole in his breastplate, his gun tumbling from his arms, his body falling forward, hitting the rock with a sickening crunch.

Blood pooled from underneath his corpse, and soft wisps of smoke trailed from the exit wound in his back, only to be caught in the faint breeze that dipped into the canyon, dissipating into the thinned air.

Asami released her breath, already halfway down to the canyon floor, her rifle once again comfortably sitting on her back.

 

* * *

 

 

The crevice didn’t lead deep beneath the planet’s crust. Judging by the haphazard struts that propped up the bulk of the landmass, Asami estimated that the Lotus had only made this place their makeshift home in the last month or so. Kinetic lanterns hung from every other strut, their small self-sufficient gyros whirring in tune to keep the tunnels illuminated.

It was hard to believe that it could be this cold beneath the scorched sands that raged above.

The tunnels grew wider and wider the further Asami stalked her way through, knelt low in her suit despite the fact that there was nowhere to hide along the linear path. Plasteel crates sporadically lined the dirt-paved corridor, holding basic tools, ship electronics, and other miscellaneous parts.

The moment came when Asami rounded a corner, and the dirt gave way to steel, and a large reinforced airlock stood before her, with a makeshift input terminal piled atop a collapsible platform to the side. Large vents broke the otherwise undecorated walls perpendicular to the airlock, heavy grates seeping warmer air from beyond. Through them, Asami could hear the faint clattering of footsteps, dull, incomprehensible chatter, and distant machinery.

This had to be it. Korra had to be here.

She hurried to the terminal, a haphazard security system blinking to life, the screen smeared with dirt and dust. She could bypass anything, no problem, but even she would need time. She removed the Satokey from her gauntlet, and inserted it into the open port on the terminal.

She was too focused on the code on the screen to hear the sound of the vent-latch opening behind her. Despite her reinforced suit, she felt the blow catch the side of her helmet, hard.

“- _fuck_!”

Asami staggered from the attack, the screeching sound of her damaged comms module clouding her thoughts. The optics module in her helmet’s viewfinder flickered for a moment, before fizzling out completely. She turned sharply, gauntlets raised and ready, searching for signs of her attacker.

The man stood low, half-crouched, wild hair and scarred face, dishevelled but alert, a fierce glow in his beady eyes. In his hand, he clutched a stun baton, its arcing static casting flashes of blue and white across the tunnel.

“Where is she?!” Asami yelled.

The grunt smirked, and readied himself for another attack. He pounced with the force of a lion, lunging at Asami baton first. The blow glanced off her pauldron, but she felt the wave shake her to the bone. She felt sluggish, even despite the streamlined design of her suit, and before she could right herself again, the second blow caught her once again in the back of her helmet.

Asami fell forward, the crunch of metal and plasteel ringing in her ears. She knew the helmet must have suffered critical damage - She reached up, finding open circuitry and a torn exterior, she grit her teeth as she ripped her helmet off.

Asami gasped as the wave of cold air washed over her face. Without her helmet, her rebreather was struggling to funnel enough oxygen to compensate for her elevated heartbeat, but at least she could see her opponent much more clearly now - and without her helmet, she felt pounds lighter.

She activated her gauntlets, and at once they sprung to life, bolts coursing through their digits like the hands of zeus themselves. She smirked beneath her rebreather at the momentary glimpse of fear in the man’s eyes, before he steeled himself for a third round, but not before Asami made the opening lunge.

The man managed to dodge mere moments before Asami swiped him, instead tearing a sizeable gape against the rocky wall behind where the man stood moments earlier. Asami reared instantly, swiping again, and again, and again, forcing the man back each time towards the airlock, each backstep less and less sure. Bolts arced with each swipe, fury and venom in their swings, reckless, unsteady, unstable -

The final swipe caught the man in the shoulder, tearing his shirt open at contact, searing into his flesh and drawing an agonized scream from his lips. The force sent him flying, slamming into the airlock, the wound against his shoulder instantly cauterized by the electrified impact.

Asami was quick to advance. She loomed over him, her gauntlet finding its way around his neck, drawing him up to eye level.

“Who’s inside,” She growled. “How many? Do you have the key? Do they know I’m here -”

The shot split the air around them, the crackle echoing down the tunnel and fading into the distance. Asami froze, a searing cold sensation in her thigh. Her vision blurred, head spinning, a dull ache settling into her leg, glancing down to see a tear in her suit, blood and burnt fabric, and cracked textile where the barrel of a single-shot breaker pointed to, a gun that the man had pulled from a hidden holster at the last minute.

The pain came next Asami fell back, agonizing and crippling, leaving her gasping for breath as her rebreather struggled to steady her panicked state. She could feel her still-warm blood pouring into the gaps in her suit, spilling onto the metal and dirt floor as she struggled to keep her body shivering into shock. She clawed feebly at the medi-aid pouch on her belt, her eyes watching in horror as the man climbed to his feet, struggling to load a second round into his breaker, no doubt intended to be the coup de grace.

The fingers of her gauntlet closed around the triage sealant pen in her pouch, fumbling with the lid, tears of agony running down her cheek as she sprayed the mist directly into the open wound. Her screams drew the attention and ire of the man, rising to kick the pen out of her gauntlet before the spray could finish. Fury settled in his gaze, and finally loading the bullet, he stood over Asami as he aimed his executioner’s shot between her eyes.

Asami paused, her body slowing as adrenaline seeped from her veins. She could see the bullet chambered through the other end of the barrel, the rust of the shoddily managed breaker glinting off the dull lights. The man smirked a filthy grin, missing teeth replaced by shards of cobalt replicant.

“Die squealing, bitch.” He said, pulling the trigger.

Asami didn’t even close her eyes, but it didn’t matter. Her death did not come. The man’s face turned to one of confusion, pulling the trigger again, and again, and again - nothing. He glanced at the frame, the chamber, the round, struggling to remove it -

Jammed.

Asami managed a weak cough. “Cabbage Corps surplus, from after the war?”

The man looked in terror, hesitating for just a moment before turning to scramble for his stun baton discarded when he fell, but too late, as Asami aimed a kick beneath the knee with her other leg, shattering his shin.

The man howled in pain, clutching his ruined leg that hung by splinters. Asami struggled to her feet, beads of sweat and blood trailing down her face, her vision faint, but steady for now, as she clambered to her knees. She crawled over to the man, still screaming and sobbing on his back, and closed a heavy gauntlet around his skull, watching as his beady eyes frantically darted back and forth.

“N-no, no - wait! W-wait, wait - we - I’ll tell you everything! Please! P-please, we’ve got f-four, four guys in there, and they’re armed, just - please don’t k-kill me -”

Asami’s eyelids fluttered shut as she fought for consciousness. She brought her gauntlet to life once more, determined, decided.

“Thank you for your patronage.” Asami said quietly, between heavy breaths. “Please think of Sato Industries next time you purchase arms, for all your dependable defensive needs.”

The man screamed as Asami’s gauntlet seared his flesh, eyes watering as the shock coursed through his skull. It took only a few seconds, before his body fell still, limp, his screams gone but still ringing in her ears, the man's face one of torn horror, scorched skin and sickeningly red as the liquid from his eyes ran down his face.

Asami’s body was cold as she fetched the stim from her pack. She could feel her mind slipping, any moment falling into unconsciousness. Fingers curling around the tiny module, she slipped the stim into the autoinjector slot mounted on her chestplate.

It was as if ten thousand hands dragged her back to reality at once. Gasping for breath, eyes bulging forth, struggling to keep down the roiling, nauseating sensation of her body ignoring every missing drop of blood, every open wound, every failing vital,

Thin air, thick blood, Asami clambered to her feet, and turned her attention to the terminal.

 

> _“What are their demands?” Asami said, ignoring the cup of tea one of the ensigns had offered her._
> 
> _“We’re not sure.” Mako said, standing over the planetary hologram. “Comms hasn’t yet been able to re-establish contact with the group since they took them.”_
> 
> _“Have they -”_
> 
> _“Asami!”_
> 
> _Asami turned, not before being hit full by a force that almost knocked the air out of her lungs. Bolin’s hug lifted her off the ground, and she couldn’t help but manage a weak smile._
> 
> _“H-hello, Bo.” Asami said breathlessly._
> 
> _“Ah,” Bolin grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that.” He released his titan grip, but a hand remained on Asami’s shoulder. His look turned to one of genuine empathy. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Right, Mako?”_
> 
> _Mako grimaced. “We’ll try our best.”_
> 
> _Asami felt her heart slip. She knew that he was just doing his duty, that officers and enforcers were trained to not give false hopes, but she still would have appreciated the sentiment._
> 
> _“Well,” Bolin nodded determinedly. “I’ve spoken to Kuvira. You have the support of the Terra Cadre if you need it.”_
> 
> _Mako raised a brow. “Really? Kuvira would spare resources for us?”_
> 
> _“For Korra.” Bolin corrected. “We might have had our differences in the past, but Korra is a diplomat - there’s got to be some sense of righteousness about joining together to save someone who works for that sort of thing, right?”_
> 
> _Mako glanced at the planetary hologram once more, scanners sifting through every inch of the surface in search of trailsigns._
> 
> _“I suppose we’ll take everything we -”_
> 
> _“Sir! Someone’s trying to reach us!”_
> 
> _Mako nodded to the comms ensign. “Go ahead.”_
> 
> _The main console blinked with the incoming call. No video feed came up - instead, the monitor filled with tessellating red icons, the patterned symbols of the Red Lotus, which Asami had been informed came from pieces of a long lost board game._
> 
> _Though she knew better than to assume the Red Lotus would be playing games._
> 
> _A voice bleared through, heavily modulated and crackling. “Your guard is dead. We have your diplomat. We have been watching you. Do not interfere - if we see Republic ships, we will destroy them, then we will kill your diplomat, then we will burn Omashu. We know the Terra Cadre is listening. Do not Interfere. If we see Terra ships, we will destroy them, then we will kill the diplomat, and we will burn Terra. Your guard is dead. We have your diplomat. We have been watching you. Do not -”_
> 
> _Mako turned to the comms ensign. “The message repeats?”_
> 
> _“Apparently so, sir.”_
> 
> _“Right, kill the feed. They don’t want to talk, then.” Mako sighed, turning back to the meeting table. “I suppose we’ll have to work out another way of -”_
> 
> _He glanced around, eyes narrowing and curious. He turned to Bolin. “Where did Asami go?”_
> 
> _Bolin turned from the monitor, equally as confused. “Huh. No idea - Asami?” He cried out. “Where did you go?”_
> 
> _Several corridors away, towards the lower hangar bay struts, Asami walked briskly, careful not to arouse suspicion while eyeing her tablet carefully._
> 
> _Encryption received_
> 
> _Relay isolated._
> 
> _Position tracking established._
> 
> _Triangulating… 1%_
> 
> _Triangulating… 2%_
> 
> _Triangulating… 4%_
> 
> _“I’m coming, Korra. Just hold on.”_

 

The airlock shuddered, shaking the chamber to life as its mighty doors creaked open. Asami stepped inside, cautious and waiting. She drew her rifle slowly, blindly loading as she gazed up at the blinking safety lights, the heavy arms that held the doors, watching for vents and crevices, of other signs of a surprise attack. Heavy doors closed behind her, and for a moment, she was left alone in the dark, sealed room that blinked with red and black, waiting for the far side air-lock doors to release. A great hiss pierced the air as the hydraulics released their grasp, and a bright light broke into the airlock as the far side doors cracked open.

Asami had barely a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, before a voice cried out from beyond.

“Drop your weapon.”

The voice was deep and hoarse, its rumble echoing throughout the hangar. Asami blinked, arms shading her limited vision. She could make out projector lamps pointed at her, blinding her vision, but beyond that the outline of several figures, standing, armed, positioned behind barricades and kneeling beside plasteel crates, and one hunched over, bound -

“Korra!” Asami cried out, instinctively taking a step forward.

A gunshot cracked from the barricade, and a sharp pain caught her in the shoulder before the ringing had even settled in her ears. She screamed in pain, staggering from the blow, clutching her upper arm where the shot had gone straight through.

“Drop. Your. Weapon.”

The EM rifle clattered to the ground as Asami released her grip. Immediately, she could see the figures of two of the captors moving forward, guns raised in alert, moving to kick the rifle further away, their own guns aimed squarely at her. They tore at her utilities, her gauntlets, throwing aside her medi-aid pouch, her ammo satchels, her comm and earpiece, even her rebreather.

She gasped as they tore it from her mouth, the unfiltered low oxygen air burning cold in her lungs. She coughed, spluttering as they disarmed her, marching her forward with the barrels of their guns, and only when they were sure she wasn’t going to be a threat, did they lower the projector lamps.

The hangar was smaller than she anticipated. Two ships were docked, the hangar doors a makeshift holographic facade that lead into the ridged canyon she had entered from. Most of the space had been made fit as a living space, with crates of supplies and surplus stacked almost higher than the ships themselves.

And she could see Korra, lying on the floor some few feet before her, eyes closed with a small tank tied against her, mouth gagged, hands and feet bound. Asami saw her watching her, the blue eyes fearful -

And angry.

“Who are you?” Came the same voice from before - a balding, aged figure, broad of shoulder and heavy jawed. He wore thick robes, bandoliers across his chest, and the mark of the Red Lotus branded into his neck. He was, no doubt, their leader. 

Asami marked her breath, slow and controlled, taking in her surroundings carefully. Her free hand was held up in surrender, her other hanging half-limp, covered in blood. She could see the two behind her in her peripheral vision, the man who spoke standing atop a stack of crates, the fourth just beneath him, huddled behind a small stack of sandbags.

He was the one who shot her.

The leader spoke again. “I asked you a question. Who are you?”

 _Four._ Asami ran through the situation in her head. She turned just slightly to glance at the ones closest to her. _Breaker rifles, non-automatic. HF-knives. Sharp. Side-arms, probably single-shot like the one from before. Grenade bandolier on the one to the right._

“Last chance, bitch.”

Asami took a deep breath, and turned back to the leader.

“I am Asami Sato.”

They paused. She could see the leader tilt his head, as if mishearing her. The one behind the sandbags flinched, his gun-hand faltering, if just for a second. She could sense the two behind her shifting uneasily,

“Sato?” The leader repeated.

“That’s right.” Asami said slowly. “Asami. CEO. Pilot. Marksman.”

The leader’s cracked lips broke out into a smirk, then a grin. She could see him running the numbers for her bounty in his head. Behind her, she could see the two exchanging a momentary glance of bewilderment -

And that was all the distraction she needed.

She moved as quick as she could, ramming into the guard to her right with all her force. The surprise managed to catch him off-balance, tumbling back into a wall of crates, winding him momentarily, but before he could catch his breath Asami’s hand was wrapped around the hilt of his own knife, unholstered and now plunged deep into the man’s chest.

The other guard yelled in fury, raising his rifle and aiming down. Asami released the blade and moved to carry the dead guard, coiling her arm around his waist to pull his side arm from his holster, firing off a quick shot that took the other guard clean in the neck, his eyes widening as a torrent of red mist shot forth, his body succumbing to shock seconds later.

The leader screamed. “ _Fucking shoot her!”_

Asami dropped the side-arm, clutching onto the dead guard’s body from behind as the fourth captor fired from behind the sandbags, wild shots sinking into the corpse shield she desperately held onto. Shots shook the flesh violently, near misses whizzing past, she could feel the trickle of still-warm blood wash over her arm -

A shot pierced the corpse clean, grazing her side. The shock took her, a strangled yelp slipping from her lips as she stumbled back under the weight of the guard.

“Stop!! The leader yelled.

“I got her! I fucking got her -”

“Yes you did. Now go bring her to me.”

The last remaining guard dragged her out from beneath the butchered corpse of their fellow guard. Asami coughed, struggling to gain breath, fatigued from the firefight. Heavy arms dragged her across the concrete, throwing her down beside their other captive.

“K-Korra…” Asami managed meekly. “I… I’m sorry.”

Tears streaked down Korra’s cheeks as Asami struggled against the pain, both arms wrapped around her midriff, her once pale skin now marked with blood, her suit tattered and frayed.

The leader hopped down from his crate, making his way around the sandbags to stand in front of his prisoners.

“Stand them up.” He grunted. “I want to look them in the eye when I kill them.”

Korra kicked at the guard as he tried to pull her up, earning her a swift blow to the gut with the butt of his rifle. Keeling over, she clambered to her feet, still bound and brimming with rage.

Asami stood more amicably, bloodied and defeated. She gazed at the ground with distant eyes, arms still clutching at her stomach tightly, wincing against the pain.

The leader approached her grabbing a handful of hair to pull her gaze upward. He sneered, his breath a mix of alcohol and cheap cigarette smoke.

“A Sato. Shame, really,” He glanced at the corpses of his guards. “Think of all the good the Red Lotus could have done with your bounty.”

He reared back, surprising Asami with a staggering blow to her side. She screamed, doubling over in pain, barely managing to stay on her feet. Beside her, Korra roared against her gag, tears rolling freely down her chin.

“Give me your gun.” The leader said, motioning for the guard. He fell in beside the leader’s stride, offering his weapon gladly, remaining behind him to watch the execution as closely as he could.

The leader raised the rifle, muddy little eyes watching Asami coughing in pain, still doubled over and reeling from the blow to her side.

“Any last words?” He sneered.

Asami bit down, furious eyes glancing up with unexpected vigor, full of venom, full of rage, full of retribution. She grit her teeth, and spat at his feet. The leader glanced down in disgust, at the splatter of blood and spit that coated his boot.

As well as the pin of a grenade.

“What the -”

Asami dropped her arms, a live grenade rolling from where she had been clutching at her stomach, clattering along the concrete to roll between the leader’s legs. In a moment, shock took their captors, panic settling in an instant as Asami grabbed Korra, tackling her to the ground as close to the sandbags as they could before -

The explosion shook the very air in their lungs, the force knocking them forward, tumbling to the floor.

Consciousness finally fled from Asami’s body, but the last thing she remembered seeing, was Korra frantically tearing at the frayed bindings of her hands, pulling the gag from her mouth.

“Please… Asami… Stay... with me… We’ll get… help... “

 

> _Korra stirs awake as Asami runs her fingers through her hair for the hundredth time._
> 
> _“Rise and shine, sleepy.” Asami mumbles quietly, smirking slightly. The gentle hum of K-vital engines fills the room, monitoring Korra’s health._
> 
> _Korra rubs her eyes, yawning and stretching languidly. “Where am I?”_
> 
> _Asami hums. “Medical platform, on Aquis station. We’re in high orbit around, right now.” She nods to the window, where the bright orb of their home planet seemingly rises to greet them._
> 
> _Korra stares out across the horizon, watching far distant clouds dance along the earth’s mighty seas. They watch as a shuttle launches from one of the docking bays, making its way for the surface._
> 
> _Asami watches Korra with worry. “You had a pretty big fall. Do you remember?”_
> 
> _Korra glances back, before breaking into a grin. “Yeah, of course I do. It was epic.”_
> 
> _Asami rolls her eyes as Korra laughs. “You need to be more careful, Korra.”_
> 
> _Korra smiles warmly, laughter still in her eyes, but soft. She takes Asami’s hand and squeezes it reassuringly._
> 
> _“You worry too much.”_
> 
> _Asami squeezes back. “I worry the appropriate amount. Just… be more careful, okay?”_

 

 

She can smell it. The faint combination of gauze, of disinfectant, that vague sterile smell that comes with the sheets. She can hear it too, the faint beeping, hushed murmuring, the distant sound of an intercom, the thrum of patients being floated down to observation or operation.

She’s in a hospital.

Her eyes feel heavy - her _whole body_ feels heavy, impossibly so. She feels like there’s a weight on her chest - as if her corvette had touched down while carrying twice its legal cargo.

She goes to take a deep breath, and ends up coughing violently.

“Asami!” A familiar voice cries.

Asami struggles to open her eyes, and her vision swims before her. White, the doctor’s choice of colours. But besides the ceiling, to her right, are the two most brilliantly bright blue eyes she’s ever seen in her life.

“Ko...ra.” Her voice crackles like sandpaper, sore with phlegm.

“I’m here,” Korra whispers. Her voice is soft, almost ethereal to Asami’s ears. “You’re okay. Don’t speak too much.”

Korra holds Asami’s hand with both of her own, squeezing tighter than she ever has before.

“Are you thirsty?” Korra says. “Hungry? Are you in pain? No - Don’t try and move, you need rest. Stay lying down, I’ll get someone -”

Korra rises, but Asami’s hand tugs her back down. Korra looks on, a concerned expression on her face.

Asami opens her mouth slowly, wincing at the dryness of her lips, of her mouth.

“You...  You worry too much.” Asami says, cracking a brief smile, before grunting in pain.

Korra’s jaw tenses, but her eyes soften.

“You…” Korra begins, struggling to find the words. “I’m… Thank you.”

“I… I had to.” Asami mumbles. She’s so very, very tired. “I couldn’t imagine what it would be… without.”

Korra squeezes her hand once more. Out the window, United Republic engineers hover across a landing pad to receive more wounded from a docking medivac ship. In the distance, maintenance workers tethered to a repair strut float through the short distances between platforms, sealing gaps in the station. In the backdrop, two moons and endless stars twinkle beyond the horizon.

Asami raises her other hand to touch Korra’s, but an absence meets her. She glances down - a cream coloured prosthesis occupies the space where her left arm would be, and another where her left leg ought to be as well.

Korra watches her gaze hesitantly. “The explosion.”

Asami nods, understanding. “I knew the risk.” She turns back to Korra, a reassuring look on her face. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Asami sighs complacently, sinking back into her bed. She can’t believe how tired she is. She feels a weight sink into her lap, and she knows Korra is resting her head there.

She wonders how long Korra’s been by her side. She doesn’t think she’d be surprised by her answer.

“Bolin and Mako will want to know you’re up.” Korra mumbles.

Asami groans. “Five more minutes. I want to hold off the lectures from Officer Mako and Mother Bolin.”

Korra laughs, and it’s contagious. Asami hasn’t felt this light in a long time. They settle into a comfortable silence, in rest, in each other’s company.

Asami breaks the silence. “I love you.” She manages with a slight nod.

“I love you too” Korra says is a quiet whisper, but with all the confidence in the worlds.

Asami slept, and so did Korra, and as they did they drifted through space, finding rest among the stars. Two in harmony, even a thousand suns couldn’t shine brighter than they did.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh holy christ i went a bit nuts with this one. also it's more sci-fi girlfriends than space girlfriends, so i hope you can forgive me on this one. also the ending is super corny, i know, i was struggling to come up with a satisfying endquote and im still not 100% on it tbh but i wanted to be done with this one .enjoy...? 
> 
> comments are always appreciated :)


	6. Day Six; Rainy Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like tears in rain.

**Angst.**

 

They knew it was bad when the police turned up on Sunday evening. Korra was the one to answer the door. 

“Yes?”

“Evening, miss. We’ve received several noise complaints coming from this apartment - is everything okay?” 

Korra glanced over her shoulder to where Asami was still standing in the kitchen, draped in a bathrobe, glaring out the window. 

“Yeah.” Korra scoffed brusquely. 

The policewoman raised a disbelieving brow, but didn’t push the subject. 

“Alright, well - please keep it down. If we get any more reports -”

“Yeah, got it. Thanks.” 

It was bold of her, to slam the door in the cop’s face. Fortunately, a second knocking didn’t come, but Korra wouldn’t have been there to answer it anyway. As soon as the door was closed, she marched off down the hallway and into their bedroom. 

It took Asami half a second to follow her.

“Where are you going?” She said sharply. “We’re not done.” 

Korra forcefully pushed open their wardrobe, digging deep within. 

“ _ I  _ am.” Korra said, pulling out a duffel bag. 

Asami doesn’t object. Instead, she marched back into the kitchen, fiddling around with the coffee machine to drown out the sounds of Korra packing. It wasn’t necessary, as a moment later she reappeared, the duffel slung over her shoulder. 

An uneasy silence burned between them, neither sure whether a goodbye was befitting the venom that they had spat at each other moments earlier. A minute later, Korra decided that it wouldn’t be worth it, opening the front door and hesitating for just a second, before slamming it behind her, leaving Asami alone, with nothing but the sound of the coffee machine powering down. 

Asami stared at the cup of coffee she had made, steam rising slowly from the jet-black brew, before gritting her teeth in a sharp sigh, and pouring it out. 

She cried herself to sleep that night. 

Asami awoke on Monday to several missed calls from Opal and Bolin, as well as a lengthy message from Mako, but nothing from Korra. She sighed, eyes burning and bleary from last night’s tears, and deleted them all. She stood in the shower for what seemed like forever, until she mustered the energy to clean herself, and begin getting ready for the day.

She couldn’t even remember what they were arguing about anymore. Was it one big thing, or lots of little things? Maybe it was a combination of the two. All she knew was the mere thought of Korra left her body tense, her jaw clenched and her hands balled into fists, a quiet rage and frustration seeping into every corner of her being. 

All she could feel was the frustration, the aggression, the  _ hate _ she had for Korra. A cacophony of curse words ran through her mind like a freight train. 

Asami went to work late that day, but couldn’t focus on her projects anyway. Varrick gave her the benefit of the doubt, sensing something was wrong. Maybe it was her absent demeanor. Maybe it was the fact she zoned in and out of conversations. 

Maybe it was the fact that she missed a meeting because she was crying in a storeroom. 

On Tuesday, Asami awakens to more messages from everyone, and a missed call from Korra at 2:13AM in the morning. She didn’t leave a voicemail, and Asami didn’t call back. She read Opal’s message - something about how Korra is a complete mess, and that she regrets her behaviour. Asami doesn’t believe it, and doesn’t message back. 

Varrick pulls her aside at work today, and asks if everything’s okay. Asami can’t bring herself to lie, but doesn’t tell Varrick anything anyway. He’s concerned, but she’s tired. He warns her that while he’s sympathetic, he’s running a company, a business, and can’t have senior staff that he can’t rely on. 

Asami promises that she’ll pull herself together, even though both of them know she won’t. 

Asami thinks she sees Korra on the train home that night, but it wasn’t her. 

Maybe she’s forgotten what she looks like. 

She doesn’t have any food in the fridge other than Korra’s leftovers that she made on Saturday, but she can’t bring herself to eat them. The hunger overcomes her eventually though, and she climbs off the couch to reheat a portion. She manages three bites before she starts crying again, and throws the rest of the meal out, along with the rest of the leftovers. 

She goes to sleep hungry. The pain in her stomach dulls the one in her chest. 

On Wednesday, Asami leaves her phone at home, and almost manages to fool herself into thinking it was accidental, but she knows she just doesn’t want to talk to anyone about Korra. They’ve been hounding her with calls every ten minutes, trying to get in touch, worried about her. 

Asami likes to think she doesn’t care. 

Varrick pulls her aside again, saying he tried to call her, that she’s an hour and fifteen minutes late today. He sighs, saying that he’s going to have to suspend her until she decides to sort whatever it is that’s bothering her out. Asami nods, and leaves without another word.

She doesn’t go home. Instead she goes to the supermarket and tries to buy groceries. She finds herself lost in thought at several places in the supermarket, only to startle awake to realize her eyes are misting again, and hurries off to the next aisle to avoid bursting into tears in front of a middle-aged woman and her two children. She finishes her shopping early, and dry-heaves in her car, a wave of nausea sweeping over her. 

When she gets home, she heads straight to her phone to find sixteen missed calls from Korra, and a single message that reads;

> “ _ Call me. Please. _ ” 

Asami doesn’t call. She manages to make a half-decent meal of her groceries, and eats alone in the kitchen while watching a show on her tablet. She feels warm and full for a moment, before the ache settles in again. Her flame is dulled at this point, leaving little to distract her from the pain. 

She doesn’t cry in bed that night, but she can’t sleep either. The absence beside her is far too noticeable. She pulls her sheets off the mattress, and falls asleep on the couch. 

Asami wakes up sore on Thursday, her alarm ringing from the bedroom. She clenches her eyes and ignores it until it turns off by itself, but at this point she’s already awake. She doesn’t get off the couch until there’s a knocking at the door. 

It’s Bolin. He says he went by the office, but Varrick told him he had suspended her. Bolin says he’s worried about her - that they all are. He says that Korra’s sorry, but that Asami needs to be sorry too. They’ve both fucked up.

Asami doesn’t disagree, but she doesn’t let him in. Bolin leaves a few minutes later when nobody answers the door.

Asami throws up in the kitchen sink. 

She feels horrible, so she schedules an appointment with the doctor, if only to regain some feeling of control in her life. She almost misses it, but manages to get there on time in the end. 

The doctor gives her a thorough physical. He says that there isn’t anything particularly wrong with her, that it might be a dietary issue, or lack of good sleep. He asks about Asami’s mental health, whether she’s feeling depressed. Asami doesn’t tell him about Korra. He remarks that it might be a good idea to see a therapist, and writes a referral that she can take. 

Asami takes the letter he offers, and leaves. She throws it away as soon as she finds a trash can on the street.  

She’s driving home when her phone rings. It’s Korra, but she doesn’t pull over to answer it, so the call goes to voicemail. As soon as the call ends, Asami finds somewhere to pull over so she can listen to it. Her heart wrenches when she plays it back, but Korra doesn’t say anything. It’s the sound of her breathing, quietly, hitched, as if  _ she’s _ been crying. Asami almost gets in an accident afterwards, and returns to her apartment shaken.

She manages to eat something, and falls asleep on the couch again. 

On Friday she wakes up before her alarm does, and she shuffles into the bedroom to shut it off. She’s nursing a lukewarm tea in the kitchen when Opal calls. Asami hesitates, before picking it up, and immediately hears a sigh of relief from Opal.

She’s worried. They’re all worried. Nobody has heard from her in days, and Korra’s a mess. Korra’s been drinking, coming back early in the morning smelling of sick and smoke and booze. She got into a fight at a bar and had to go to the hospital, but it was just a few small cuts. She says that police haven’t been looking for her, and the thought relieves Asami, but she doesn’t express it. Opal realizes that Asami hasn’t said anything yet and asks how she’s doing. 

Asami doesn’t know how she’s doing. She lies and says that she has to go, that she’s got an appointment. Opal pauses, and says that Asami can call anytime. 

Asami says thank you, and hangs up. She pours out the rest of her tea, as it’s long since gone cold.

Mako turns up later in the evening, and Asami lets him in, which she regrets. He’s dressed in his officer clothes, which tells her he’s come straight off work. He looks in disgust around the apartment - there’s trash piled up, dishes in the sink, dirty clothes strewn all over the place. He asks Asami if she’s okay, if she needs anything, but it feels like she’s being questioned. Interrogated. She doesn’t want to speak to Mako, but he refuses to leave until he checks over the apartment, and says he’ll be back tomorrow morning with groceries after he finds that the fridge is once again empty. Asami is quietly grateful, but she doesn’t say it. 

Mako says she can call him anytime. She manages to say goodbye when he leaves.

That night, Asami digs around in Korra’s nightstand for an old pack of cigarettes. Asami made her quit months ago, but the pack has always been there. She steps out onto the balcony and lights one up, the smoke burning her throat, sending her into a coughing fit. 

She doesn’t care. She just wants to feel something. She wants to cry, but her eyes are all out of tears. She wants to feel angry again, to feel the spark of fury, so she puts ash and flame into her lungs, but it doesn’t do anything but make her sick again. 

Asami stays on the balcony until the cigarette burns itself out, and the sun begins to rise. When the dawn becomes too bright for her stare, she looks down to the street instead. It’s far enough, but fear holds her back. As soon as the ashes no longer smoulder, she goes back inside. Asami takes a shower, and falls asleep on the couch again. 

Asami wakes up to her phone ringing just past seven in the morning. It’s Korra, and she picks up. She hears the sound of sobbing, of what sounds like a glass bottle clinking against brickwork. Korra’s mumbling incoherently, her words slurred, but Asami can make out her name a few times slipping from Korra’s lips. 

It feels like daggers raking across her chest. She stays silent, but Korra doesn’t seem to notice Asami’s picked up the phone. Asami can hear Opal in the background, soothing her, saying that it’ll be okay, that she should give her the bottle. 

It’s bad. 

The phone call ends abruptly, and Asami realizes she’s crying again. It feels different. It feels hopeless. She’s crying, and she can’t even focus on the emotion that’s making her choke back the tears. She feels her jaw ache from gritting her teeth, trying to stem the tide and wave after wave of uncertainty. 

The rest of Saturday morning feels like a blur to Asami. She drifts from room to room, trying to busy herself. She doesn’t get dressed, and spends most of the day in assorted garments, or bundled up in her bathrobe. She eats when her stomach grumbles at her, but she never finishes a meal. She’s not sure if people are calling her, or if the sound of her phone ringing is just residual in her head. 

It begins to rain around mid-afternoon, sudden and heavy. The sound of pattering against her window, against the concrete of her balcony through the open glass door, wakes her up enough to force her gaze outside. She watches the rain dance over the city from her living room for what feels like forever, until she forgets who she is. 

She forgets everything but the rain, the rhythm and the cold wind that sweeps into her house, like a cleansing perfume that prickles her skin and stings her eyes. 

It still hurts to think, but she manages to drag herself into the bathroom and wash herself, and for a moment, she feels clean again. 

Asami manages to sleep in their bed that night; it’s disturbed and troubled still, but she manages it. 

When Sunday morning comes, there’s only one message on her phone. 

It’s from Opal.

> _“Have you seen Korra? She’s not in the house, and nobody’s seen her.”_

Asami feels her whole body tense up. She checks the timestamp; it’s only been a few hours, since Opal sent it. 

Rain slashes against the windows, and Asami doesn’t know what to do. 

She sits in the kitchen, staring at her phone. She hopes someone will call her, tell her that they’ve found her, that they know where she is, that - 

Asami jumps as she hears the sound of keys, of the handle of the front door turning. 

Korra steps in, but stops immediately as she spots Asami.  She looks tidy, but the smell of smoke lingers on her jacket.

“What are you doing here?” Asami coughs. She wanted it to be accusatory, or cold. But her voice is hoarse - she hasn’t spoken this much in a while. 

Asami can feel the tears surging to her eyes at the mere sight of Korra, but beyond anything, she feels the sense of relief.

It’s uncanny. 

Korra fails to met her gaze, and instead glances back out into the hallway. Asami can see her reconsidering her place here, whether she might just leave. Instead, Korra closes the door behind her. 

A sense of displacement settles within Asami, as if Korra being here is how things ought to be, but not right now. 

Korra speaks quietly, her own voice hoarse, as if she’s been shouting.

“I needed to…. I needed to get some things.” 

Asami bites back the tears. “Go get them, then.” 

Korra hesitates as she lingers by the door. She still doesn’t meet Asami’s gaze, but after a moment, she walks off into the bedroom. 

Asami doesn’t want to follow her, but every muscle in her body is pushing her to do so. She abandons her cup of tea, and steps quietly into the hallway, into the doorway of the bedroom. 

Korra hovers beside the bed, one hand delicately tracing tips against the covers that she’s left for a week now. Korra’s back is to the doorway, but Asami can tell that she’s lost in thought. 

“Get what you need,” Asami says suddenly, causing Korra to jump. “And get out.” 

Rain and grey skies cloud the outside world that peeks in through the window. 

Korra rummages through their wardrobe. Asami knows she’s not looking for anything in particular, that what she really wants isn’t something she can take away. 

When Korra’s done, she’s holding a few nondescript shirts, a pair of jeans, and some underwear. 

Asami leads her back into the kitchen, and stands over the sink, staring out the window. 

“Go.” 

She senses Korra standing in the hallway, her eyes burning into the back of Asami’s head. Asami doesn’t turn around, in part because she’s scared of what she’ll see in Korra’s eyes, and in part to hide her tears. 

Because she can’t hold them back anymore. 

She can feel Korra moving towards her, and the thought of Korra’s touch both frightens and excites her. 

Korra’s voice chills her when she speaks. “Asami, I -” 

It’s pleading. It’s wanting and begging and  _ needy _ . 

Asami’s eyes widen at the sound of her own name. “No. Don’t.” 

She can feel Korra hesitate behind her. 

“Please, Asami -”

Asami feels Korra’s hand on her shoulder, gentle. She jumps at the touch, pulling away from her. 

“ _ Don’t.  _ D-don’t… Don’t touch me.” Asami hisses, her voice catching against the lump in her throat. She says it, but it’s not out of fear. It’s not out of hate or anguish or disgust of Korra. 

Asami wants the touch. She knows it in her mind, with every fibre of her being. 

It’s that she misses it, and she’s scared of what it means if she admits to herself that she wants it.

Because it means that they’ve been broken. 

And that the touch will make it all real.

All the hurt.

All the sleepless nights.

Each and every one of the tears. 

All the pain.

All the nightmares.

The shadows that lurk in the corners of her mind, that keep her from walking down the street, that nudges her closer to the edge. 

And Asami knows that Korra’s touch is all of those things. 

But above all, she knows that Korra’s touch means she’s home. 

But Korra understands, and she doesn’t reach for her again. She turns, and it’s two steps to the door when Asami turns around and reaches back instead. 

“Korra -”

Her fingers close around her wrist as Korra turns, and for the first time in an eternity, they see each other. 

Korra doesn’t pull away when Asami reaches her, but when their gaze meets they see each the scars that they’ve left on each other. Asami sees the brilliant blue of Korra’s eyes, and they’re full of sorrow and anguish and torment, of lost loathing and sundered hatred, of ashes of arguments that burned them down and left nothing within them but soot and rot that did little to cauterize the aching hollow wound that Asami rendered.

And from the look on Korra’s face, Asami knows that Korra sees the same within her. 

They close the distance almost instinctively, searching the other’s eyes for hesitancy, of aversion, of regret - 

But they find none. 

It feels like a thousand bolts of lightning strike them the moment their lips touch. Asami gasps through a shuddered breath at the warmth, the softness of Korra’s lips. They’re hesitant, as if unsure, but wanting, desperately so. She sinks into the touch, and her eyes clench tight as wave after wave of emotion breaks over her, like a supernova of a million suns cascading through her mind. 

She pulls Korra ever closer towards her, and Korra finds purchase with one hand against the nape of Asami’s neck, the other pressed against the countertop. Their kisses are frenzied, gasping for breath amidst free-flowing tears that wet their cheeks and salt the taste of the other’s mouth.

They hesitate in moments, holding each other back in gasps and sharp, shuddering breaths, the distance between them when they pull back achingly painful. Each moment their lips are apart feels unnatural, as if the other’s kiss is the only thing that will breathe new life into their bodies. 

It’s only when Korra’s lips trail from her lips to her jaw, and to her collarbone, that Asami gasps the word. 

“Stop.” She whispers, a firm hand upon Korra’s chest. 

Korra’s body freezes immediately, and steps back. The absence between them is agonizing. 

Asami pulls her robe tight, tightening the sash around her waist. 

“I… I’m sorry, Korra.” Asami whispers quietly. “I’m not… I’m not ready.” 

Korra nods, a look of understanding surfacing above her pained expression. 

“Me too.” Korra replies, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry. For everything.” 

Asami manages a short chuckle, though it sounds more like a rasped sigh. 

“Do you want to stay?”

Korra glances up, a brow raised, eyes searching.

“Do you want me to?” 

Asami pauses. 

“I don’t know.” 

Korra nods, and clears her throat. She bends down to pick up the clothes strewn around the floor, dropped in the heat of the moment. 

“Then I’ll be at Opal’s.” Korra says as she turns to the door. “I’ll come back only when you’re sure.” 

Asami nods, and watches as Korra makes to leave. 

“I’ll call you.” Asami blurts out. 

Korra hovers in the doorway, one hand on the handle, and nods to Asami before closing the door behind her.

The rain doesn't ease up, but Asami's thankful for the sound. 

It’s Sunday evening when Asami calls Korra. 

They talk for hours. 

They cry. 

They confess. 

They speak about the things they’ve done.

They scream their regrets. 

They whisper, whisper of the things they’ve missed.

The warmth of their bed.

A meal together.

Each other’s touch. 

Asami doesn’t realize she’s smiling, for the first time in a week, until she’s too tired to focus on anything else. It’s a weak one, weary and fatigued -

But it’s there. 

It’s still raining when Asami falls asleep, nodding off to the sound of Korra’s whisper over the phone, and of raindrops trickling down her window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yee haw, still going with these! Imma get these done if it kills me goshdangit. I've even dragged them on so long that i might still be writing them when korrasami month rolls along. 
> 
> should i apologize for this one? perhaps! i dont know, i've written fluffy rainy pieces before, and this concept wouldn't leave me alone. hope you... enjoyed it?
> 
> thanks for reading! comments are always appreciated :)


	7. Day Seven; Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami and Korra visit the Little Earth Kingdom markets, and stumble across an antique store selling "soulmate artifacts", ancient relics that laid curses on their users, which could only be broken by the one true loves. 
> 
> Naturally, they find that the ones to break the curses, are each other.

“Hey, Asami! Over here!” 

The crowds were immense. Asami stood still, lost in thought, watching colourful streamers and lanterns drifting through the air, bound by simple knots of string tied to laundry lines dangling between the buildings that flanked high above either side of the roads. 

“Asami? Asami!”

Hawkers shouted their wares and barged their way through the busy streets, their wagons filled to the brim with produce, of sweets and toys and savoury treats, of simple woolen jumpers to gossamer scarves. 

“ _ Asami! _ ”

The dull din of crowd and music echoed through the streets of Little Earth Kingdom, and Asami loved every part of it. 

“There you are, hey - !” 

Asami jumped as a hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder. 

“- Wha - ?!” 

Asami spun to catch Korra chuckling, wide eyed and sheepish.

“Oh my  _ god _ , Korra can you - I was just -  _ Don’t scare me like _ !” 

Korra rolled her eyes, pouting at Asami through her crooked grin. 

“It’s the middle of the day, in a bright marketplace, and I just tapped you on the shoulder. How was I supposed to know that would freak you out?”

It was all Asami could do to fight against the temptation to laugh along with Korra. She was filled with a natural energy, a jubilance that few could match. Her exuberance fit her attire perfectly - well, at least Asami thought so anyway. A black tank-top, a red flannel tied around her waist, with stone-washed skin tight jeans hugging her strong legs, and heavy boots to match. 

Asami shrugged, blushing. 

“I was… I was daydreaming.” Asami muttered, glancing back to the kites that drifted above all.

Korra’s expression softened, her eyes lingering on Asami. 

“Hey,” Korra said warmly, nudging Asami softly with her shoulder. “Thanks for letting me come with you.” She smiled. “I… I know how much this means to you.” 

Asami shook her head, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Korra. And I’m - I’m glad you’re with me. You’re a good… a good friend.” 

Korra replied with a smirk. “Gross -  _ feelings _ .” She laughed again when Asami returned the nudge with force. “C’mon, let’s get going - If we don’t hurry they’re gonna run out of all the fresh buns.” 

To say that Asami loved downtown Republic City would be a massive understatement. She  _ adored _ the little boutique shops, the promenade walks along the harbour shores, the quiet comfort of smaller, winding Residential University blocks, and the upscale artistry of the central boulevard.

But what she loved and missed the most were the Little Earth Kingdom markets. Fond were the memories of when her mother jogged beside her, struggling to keep up with little Asami’s forced march, eagerly hopping from stall to stall and examining all the sights and smells and sounds of merchants bringing their wares from all over the continent. She’d find half a dozen toys that piqued her interest, and half a dozen more than tickled her curiosity. She’d see artists and sculptors and carpenters creating masterpieces that she could only dream of, and many of which would lead on to inspire her works at future industries, and in the end, she’d stuff herself with so much food and candy that her mother would have to carry her home, comatose and complacent. 

So she was glad to have a friend like Korra with her, to share in making new memories. 

Asami knew going into it that some of the things she remembered wouldn’t live up to their counterparts in her memories, but it still didn’t dampen her spirit. The streets didn’t seem to stretch on forever like they used to, but they were still packed and lively. The artisans that lined the stalls seemed fewer, their crafts much simpler and worn, but nonetheless beautiful and filled with passionate artistry. The food seemed to be the only thing unchanged - even Korra admitted that they might have been as sweet as Asami remembered. 

It was early afternoon by the time they reached the end of their route, keenly marked out by Asami on her map. They smiled with warm complacency, full of fine delicacies and armfuls of trinkets and souvenirs, despite much of it being kitschy collectibles.

“I think… I think that’s it,” Asami said, handing a water bottle to Korra as she gazed around the end of the strip. “That’s the end of the market.” 

Korra took the bottle graciously, gulping down mouthfuls of water, beads of sweat trickling down her chin. 

Not that Asami was watching or anything.

“Phew,” Korra panted. “I mean, don’t get me wrong - I’m having fun and all that ‘Sams, but I don’t know how much more I can carry.” 

She flexed her free arm, curling the heavy bags she clutched, her bicep tensing and releasing in rhythmic motion. 

To Asami, it was almost hypnotic. 

Asami stammered out a sentence. “W-well, if there’s nothing else, then I guess - er, I guess we can, um - you know, we can get going, or something -”

“Hold up,” Korra said, pausing, pointing over Asami shoulder. “Is that part of the market?” 

Asami glanced over her shoulder to where Korra was pointing to. A store sat in the corner at the end of the market strip, seemingly secluded and sheltered from all the other stores that had graciously given up their footpaths for the pop-up stores. 

If Korra hadn’t pointed it out, Asami wouldn’t have noticed it at all. The brickwork was faded, as if worn through a thousand storms, with large panels half-drawn and casting shadows over its front. It was close enough to seem part of the market, and yet at the same time as if trying to hide itself away, as if it’s architect left it as an afterthought. 

“Huh,” Asami mused. “I’ve… never seen that shop before. Is it even open?” 

Korra rolled on the balls of her feet, with the telltale, crooked grin of adventure on her face. 

“Well, only one way to find out.”

 

***

 

A windchime tinkled gently as they pushed open the door, stepping inside. It was impossibly quiet, and the ambience of the street seemed to die out as soon as the door closed behind them. Dull afternoon sunlight warmed the entire shop, a muted orange glow breaking through the thin curtains that shielded its wares from prying eyes. 

The shop smelt of musk and varnish, a scent that Asami associated with antiquities or old carpets. In fact, it looked much less like a shop, and more like a hoarder’s collection, with mounds of brass kitchenware piled high upon shelves, piles of old knitted goods and woolwork stacked atop faded leather chairs. A large china vase sat by the door, large than either Korra or Asami, with what seemed like dozens of ornate walking canes sticking out of it, each with a handle more elaborately carved than the last. 

In fact, if it weren’t for the “ _ We are Open! _ ” sign on the door, Asami would have thought they had just stepped into someone’s ancient living room. There wasn’t another soul in sight, and the entire aesthetic of the shop had a slightly lived-in feel to it; albeit with a somewhat off-putting sensation.

“Weird.” Korra muttered, as she examined a series of sitting china dolls. “So like, antiques or something?” 

“Looks like it.” Asami frowned. “I, uh - I don’t think this shop is part of the market.” There didn’t seem to be price tags on any of the items. 

“Yeah. I don’t think this place has seen much business  _ years _ .” Korra said, walking deeper into the store. “How old do you think this stuff is?” She picked the top issue off a stack of old newspapers, blowing the dust off to examine it closer, only to find it published in a foreign language. 

“No idea.” Asami mused. “It’s kind of all over the place - stuff from across the world, I’m guessing.”

A voice shot from the back of the store. “And you would guess  _ right _ !”

Both Korra and Asami jumped at the voice. A tiny, ancient looking woman hobbled out from the backroom, stepping up upon a stool to rest her hands upon the glass countertop and gaze at the two of them through glasses so thick that they seemed to magnify her eyes tenfold. She was dressed in a foreign garb that Asami couldn’t place, and seemed to carry herself with a sense of reverence, and them with a sense of disdain, as if they were trespassing upon holy ground. 

“S-sorry!” Korra fumbled. “We thought this was an antique shop or something, and -”

The ancient woman smirked. “Well, this  _ is  _ a shop, and these items  _ are _ old and priceless, but it doesn’t make them  _ antiques _ .”

Asami passed a quizzical look. “Hang on, that’s the  _ exact  _ definition of - “

“But!” Interjected the shop-owner, pressing two fingers to her temple. “I can  _ sense  _ that you two are looking for something special, hmm? Something more unique than these trifling artifacts? Perhaps trinkets with a little more...  _ history _ ?” 

“Er,” Korra said uncertainly, glancing sideways at Asami. “... Sure?” 

The shopkeeper clapped her hands together, reaching underneath the countertop to produce a heavy chest that seemed as ancient as her. 

“Wonderful! Come closer, my dears, I have just what you need.” 

Korra and Asami hesitantly approached the glass counter, examining the old chest that seemed to be decorated like a treasure chest, with iron bands and a heavy rusted lock. The shopkeeper stroked the leather patches of the box gently, wide eyes gauging the reactions of the two standing before her. 

“I can sense... that you two... are  _ strong  _ women.” She said dramatically. “Strong, passionate women, yes?” 

Korra scoffed, smirking. “ _ Absolutely _ .” Asami couldn’t help but grin, rolling her eyes. 

The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed, darting between the two. “Yes - I  _ see _ it now.” She grinned a grin of her own, a smile of yellow gums and corked teeth. “Tell me, do either of you know what  _ soulmate artifacts  _ are?” 

Asami frowned. “Soulmate artifacts?” 

“Indeed,” The shopkeeper said ominously. “Long ago, in times of romanticism, sorcerers and warlocks used to enchant items with powerful magicks that would allow individuals to find their true loves - their  _ soulmates _ .” 

“Er,” Korra grumbled hesitantly, her grin faltering slightly. “Right.  _ Magicks _ .” 

“Do not be so skeptical, child!” The shopkeeper glared at Korra, waggling a decrepit finger. “When the world was young and untamed, true love was a rarity, a taboo sought after in shadows and paler moons. But magick works in sinister ways, and many of the artifacts were  _ cursed _ .”

“Curses.” Asami said dryly. “First warlocks, then  _ magicks _ , and now...  _ curses _ .” 

The old shopkeeper narrowed her eyes at Asami, twinkling and sinister. 

“Just because you live in the future,  _ Asami Sato _ ,” She said slowly. “Does not mean you can ignore  _ the past _ .” 

Korra gasped softly, but Asami spoke, deadpan and unamused. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. What have you got?”

The shopkeeper grinned toothily, and threw open the chest. Inside, it seemed an assortment of loose, nondescript items; aged, but nothing of particular note. An old pair of reading spectacles, brasswork and chipped glass, and an old fountain pen of imitator’s ivory. A music box in the shape of an anatomical heart, silver and gold, and a wooden spoon with a dulled ruby set in its handle, what appeared to be a broken spyglass, and a pair of gloves, one silk, the other leather. 

“Wow,” Korra remarked as she rummaged through the chest. “This stuff looks even older than everything else in here.” 

_ Except the shopkeeper. _ Asami smirked, picking up the glasses. “So, what was so special about these?” 

“Ah, the Lover’s Gaze.” The shopkeeper grinned. “If you were to gaze through them, all the colour in the world would drain, and you’d see nothing but black and white until you laid eyes upon your soulmate. Very popular, that one.”

“What about this one?” Korra said, holding up the heart-shaped music-box. “This one’s really cool.” 

“Indeed, the Screaming Heart; it’s said that the melody this heart plays will make every sound the listener hears become a painful tune, and can only be rectified by hearing their soulmate say their name, which will sound a glorious melody.” 

Korra frowned. “That’s morbid as hell. I’ll take it.” She said, rummaging around in her pockets.

“W-what?” Asami stammered, a bemused look on her face. “You’re actually going to buy it?”

“Well, yeah.” Korra said, grinning. “Look at it! It’s so cool. And who knows, maybe I’ll find my  _ soulmate _ .” She said, laughing. 

Asami blushed. “Fine. I’ll take the glasses too.” 

Korra laughed again, furrowing her brow. “Really? I thought you didn’t believe in magicks and curses.” 

“I don’t!” Asami insisted. “It’s just - I, well - I don’t know, they’re a nice - thing, to have. You know?” 

Both the shopkeeper and Korra eyed Asami curiously. 

Asami sighed. “Just tell us how much.” 

 

***

 

They left minutes later, leaving behind fifty yuans and a very chipper shopkeeper wishing them well for the rest of the day. 

The sun was already making its descent by the time they stepped back onto the pavement. Most of the pedestrians had dispersed, and regular traffic was once again allowed to trundle their way along the narrow streets. The market stalls and their keepers had either packed up and gone home, or relocated somewhere else downtown to try their luck with the night-crowd instead. 

Korra was still admiring her artfact. The setting sun seemed to give the anatomic heart an otherworldly glow, as if the gods themselves had reached down to admire its craftsmanship. 

Asami watched her with a vague sense of unease. 

“You don’t really believe all that soulmate artifact stuff, do you?” She said hesitantly. 

Korra hummed a noncommittal response. “I don’t know. Probably not, but it’s fun to imagine that kind of stuff, right? She knew your name, after all”

Asami scoffed. “I’m in the papers half the time. It’s not exactly a miracle.”

“Yeah, well,” Korra glanced over at Asami. “If you were given a chance, wouldn’t you want to find out who your soulmate was?” 

Asami gave a hesitant chuckle, pulling out her own artifact. She unhinged the spectacles, fingers tracing the delicate metalwork. The thing felt like it could fall apart at any second, much less divine the universe’s secrets about soulmates. 

“I mean, we could try them out now.” 

Asami felt her heart skip. “W-what?” She turned to see Korra fiddling with the clasp, trying to open the heart.

“W-wait!” Asami cried. “What about - what about the curse?” 

Korra shot her a bemused look. “What, all of a sudden you believe in curses now?” 

“No,” Asami huffed indignantly, turning a lovely shade of pink. “I’m just saying - maybe you have to… do this stuff in private, right? Just in case?” 

Korra paused, an adorable grin tugging at her lips. She placed the heart back into her bag, and shrugged. 

“Asami Sato is now superstitious. What is the world coming to?” 

 

***

 

The moment Korra stepped over the threshold into her apartment, she felt the wave of fatigue wash over her. Spending the day with Asami, she had rarely noticed how exhausted she had felt being on her feet the whole day; she was simply enjoying herself too much to notice. 

How it had all caught up to her so suddenly, as soon as Asami had dropped her off, she had no idea. 

She waved a weary hello to Bolin and Opal, curled up and somehow equally as sleepy despite spending all day inside on the couch, and made her way to her own room. 

It was a comforting sight to see her own bed, anticipating the rewarding stretch she was about to bestow upon herself. She dropped her bags at the foot of her bed and threw her tired body onto the soft sheets, embracing the cool fabric and nuzzling a soft moan of complacency as she sank into the mattress. 

Korra did enjoy Asami’s company though - she always did. Korra couldn’t be happier to have Asami as such a good friend. 

She made her laugh, and she was incredibly smart. Korra had never given the academic life much respect; not that she spurned education, she was a high-achiever herself, but until she had met Asami, she never realized how much she loved to learn. Asami always had something new to say about the advancements in engineering, and whether it be about developments in how scientists viewed lift in flight, or whether it was nanorobotics for biomedical engineering, it always seemed like everything Asami said was fascinating. She had a way with words, a lesson Korra had found when she became so enamored with Asami’s stories of engineering, that she went out to pick up a monthly subscription about all the latest news in the world of civics and mechanics, only to find it all impossibly dry. 

For some reason, Korra found that these things were only interesting when  _ Asami  _ was talking about them, and she was none the wiser as to exactly  _ why _ .

Maybe it was just that Asami was good with deconstructing complex concepts.

Or maybe it was that Asami knew how to keep the conversation from getting too serious. 

Or maybe it was just that Korra often found herself staring at Asami’s lips as she spoke. 

Asami had been on her mind a lot lately. They had gone out to lunch quite often, and visited each other fairly frequently as well. It was a running joke between their friends that if they couldn’t find either one of them, then the first person to ask would be the other.

Korra didn’t mind. Asami was nice to be around. For Korra, it was always exciting to be around Asami, and whenever they went out with their friends, they would always be the first to meet up, and the last to leave. 

Much like today. She was a little disappointed that the others couldn’t make it, but at the same time she couldn’t have been happier to spend the day exploring Little Earth Kingdom with Asami. 

Korra rolled over on her bed, eyeing the bag of souvenirs fondly. Most of it was food, delicacies from all over the world. Asami had warned her to stow them away in the fridge as soon as she got home - but Korra wasn’t exactly planning on keeping them around for long. There was also a couple of stuffed toys and trinkets, assorted knick-knacks that Asami had picked out for her, and then - 

There was the heart, sitting atop the pile, it’s lustre gleaming above the top of the bag, glinting in the afternoon sun. 

Korra sat up straight, eyeing the heart with a furrowed brow. She didn’t necessarily believe in soulmates - who did these days? Still, she couldn’t shake the curious sensation nagging at her mind. 

The metal of the heart was cold to the touch, it was magnificently carved, and even if it didn’t reveal any sort of mystical powers, it still was a great bargain. 

_ Except for the curse.  _

Korra scoffed at herself - if she didn’t believe in soulmates, she certainly wasn’t going to believe in curses. 

Her fingers traced the seam of the heart, coming to the clasp which held down the lid. 

_ Ah well, what’s the worst that could happen?  _

As Korra flipped open the clasp, the heart swung open. Inside sat a small music box, and as soon as the lid opened, it began to play. 

But only a single note. It chimed once, almost like a bell, loud in Korra’s ears and resonant, and then was gone. 

A silence followed. Korra frowned, turning the heart around her hands. The music box had no crank, and the rest of the trinket was smooth - no further clasps or crevices or indications that anything else was supposed to happen. 

_ Huh. I guess that’s it? I don’t -  _

“ _ Korra! _ ” 

Korra winced as the voice screeched from outside her room. 

“Oh my god -  _ what!? _ ” She yelled, clutching at her ears. 

“ _ Jeez, Korra!”  _ The voice came again, shrill and agonizing. “ _ I just wanted to check if you wanted to join us for dinner! _ ” 

Korra clenched her jaw in pain. Opal’s voice grated at her ears, like daggers against a chalkboard, shrill in a way that seemed to burrow into her mind and scratch at the inside of her skull. 

“S-sorry!” She cried out, eyes firmly shut. “I’ve got - Ugh, I think I’ve got a... a migraine, or something -”

“ _ Oh! _ ” Opal screamed.  _ “Sorry - well we’re heading out now, do you want us to bring you something back?!” _

Korra clutched at her ears - she was sure her head was going to explode. 

“No - please, just - thanks, but - oh my god, just - “

Opal’s footsteps thundered down the hallway, and even with Korra’s pillow curled around her ears, it was as if each footfall was slamming against the side of her head. The worst was hearing the front door close, like a cannon being shot through her eardrums. 

_ This can’t be happening…  _

It was a moment before Korra found the energy to recompose herself. Curled in her bed, she gingerly eased the pillow off her ears, grimacing at the sound of her skin against the sheets, like sandpaper against a coarse stone. 

She reconsidered her stance on curses. 

Carefully, softly, Korra began soundproofing her room - closing the window as gently as possible, tip-toeing across wooden floorboards, anything to stop a creak or squeak turning into a scream or rusty knife, jagged and drawn against dry bone. 

By the time she was done, she was covered in cold sweat, jaw sore from clenching, the faint ringing in her ears as they twitched against the bleeding rumble of traffic outside.

_ Fuck, this is unbelievable -  _

Her phone rang, suddenly and blisteringly loud. It was as if the sun had gone supernova somewhere in the back of her skull. 

Eyes watering from the pain, Korra glanced at the screen, spotting Asami’s profile. After two attempts, she managed to answer the phone, mashing the speakerphone option, scared of bringing the device too close to her ears. 

“ _ Korra _ !” Asami voice cried out in panic. 

At once, Korra felt a wave of euphoria wash over her. A bliss like no other, like pure anodyne, sweet and soothing, touching every inch of her skin, settling like a warm stone in her chest, impossibly comforting and resonant. 

“Ah - Asami?” Korra said quietly, almost crying through the tranquility. 

Asami was much less composed. _ “Korra! Don’t - the artifact, be careful - the - I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the curse - it’s real! I don’t understand, but - what the, I can’t -” _

“Asami!” Korra said, sitting bolt upright, the panic in her voice breaking through and ripping her from her reverie. “What’s - are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Korra I - the lady - I tried the glasses on, I was curious - but now, now I - I can’t -”

“What?” Korra yelled, heart racing. 

“Everything’s black and white, I don’t -” Korra could hear Asami hyperventilating through the phone. “Even when I take them off, it’s still - I’m freaking out, Korra, I don’t know how to -”

“Stay right there,” Korra said, jumping to her feet. “I’ll be over in a minute.” 

Korra raced out of the apartment. 

She wasn’t sure at what moment she realized what she needed to do, 

Or what was happening, 

But she knew when she saw her. 

 

***

 

Asami sat in her office, manilla folders and loose papers scattered around her desk where she had momentarily lost herself in the panic. The glasses lay broken in the centre of the mess, lenses broken and fragile frame bent, cold and remorseless. 

Asami had thrown them from her face as soon as she realized what had happened, as if the wiry metal had scalded her skin.

Asami leaned against her desk, hands feverishly running through her hair, eyes wide and sweat running down her neck, struggling to maintain a steadiness to her breathing. 

_ This can’t be happening. _ She shut her eyes tight, tighter than she ever had before, praying that when she opened them -

Her vision swirled before her, bleary and unfocused, and yet unmistakably still monochromatic. 

“Oh,  _ god, _ oh  _ shit, shit, shit… _ ” She heaved, nauseated and lightheaded. She could feel the muscles in her throat tightening, 

If Asami were in a calmer mood, she would quietly and amusedly reflect on the nature of curses and their intentions. 

Unfortunately, this was not the case. 

She jumped to her feet, pacing back and forth as the grey horizon of the evening taunted her, trying to steady her breath and calm her shaking hands, to keep the panic that she could feel steadily at bay. 

Her mind raced, searching for an answer, but nothing about it made logical sense. Nothing in her years of study had prepared her for a phenomenon such as this. 

Her eyes darted from grey cupboard to grey couch to grey phone. Asami swiped at her phone - she had to call  _ someone _ ; an ambulance, an emergency service - 

She paused, glancing down at the message she had received from Korra seconds after speaking to her. 

_ “Don’t freak out! I know how to fix this. Just stay put.” _

Asami stared at the message, her lip quivering as tears threatened to spill at any moment. 

_ Korra will be here in a moment. _

It was that thought that gave her calm. It was that thought that led her to her couch, taking a seat and sitting still, focusing entirely on her breathing for the next few minutes, until she heard a sharp knock at her door. 

“Asami!” 

“Korra!” Asami yelled, jumping to her feet. Her heart was bursting, adrenaline and horror coursing through her veins. “I-I don’t know what’s going on, I’m freaking out, tell me -” 

“Relax!” Korra said, her own voice dripping with a hesitant nervousness. “Just… Just open the door. I think it’ll fix it,” She said, before adding quietly, “ _ I hope. _ ” 

Asami fumbled with her chain lock for a second, before slamming the door open. 

“Korra!” Asami blurted. “I -”

Asami’s eyes widened slowly, in shock, and relief. 

Korra’s brows furrowed in a delicate expression, as if fearful and keen at once, and softly biting her lip - a nervous tick that Asami had picked up on. 

“Asami,” Korra said, smiling quietly. “I… Is it… Is it okay? Are you… the colours - can you… you know...” 

Asami could hear her heart calming, as the world drew itself back into a vibrant wonderland.

But despite all the colours that she could be relishing in, Asami only had eyes for Korra.

“Hey,” Korra spoke softly. “You’re creeping me out a little,” She laughed, tittering quietly. “Are you okay?” 

Asami blinked, laughing nervously and wiping the tears that she didn’t realize had been falling from her face. 

“Yeah, I - uh,” Asami said, grinning to herself. “I think so. Wait,” She paused. “Did you try -”

“Yup.”

“And was it -”

“Cursed?” Korra laughed. “You betcha.” 

Asami nodded slowly. “So what cured it?” 

Korra grinned, a blush creeping over her face.

“Really?” She said incredulously. “You  _ called _ me, and that was it.” 

Asami felt a breath hitch in her throat. “Really.” She chuckled, unable to contain the flutter in her heart, like a thousand bluebirds bursting out of her chest. 

“Yeah, so - um,” Korra tittered nervously. “Soulmates, huh?”

Asami nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Soulmates. What’s up with that, huh?” 

“No idea.” Korra bit her lip again through a lopsided grin. “So, what do we do now?” 

Asami folded her arms across her stomach, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Want to grab -”

“Yes.” 

Asami blinked in surprise. “Oh.” 

Korra shrugged, grinning at her feet. 

“Sorry. You were going to say, dinner, right? I hope? Yeah, dinner sounds, um -  _ great,  _ actually.” 

“Great,” Asami said, beaming. “Just let me grab a coat, and - I’ll be out in a minute?” 

Korra glanced up, her brilliant blue eyes meeting Asami. It was a knowing gaze, one that softened Asami, that made her forget all the pain and fear she had felt moments ago. 

_ I suppose that’s what a soulmate is supposed to do, right? _

Korra knew. She knew from the beginning, that they were special. 

“Sounds perfect.” Korra said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT.   
> I actually finished this. yeah, i know it's far, faaaar past the actual korrasami week, and it's actually past korrasami month too right? whatever.   
> it's done! now, I'm not going to start another freakin' project until I finish all my existing ones. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed these little stories! Please leave a comment if you did, I always appreciate them greatly.  
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> (there's probably a bunch of errors in continuity and whatever but screw it. I'll fix it when i wake up or something)


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